


Queen of Alderaan

by bunilicious



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben is the rightful King of Alderaan, Castles, Courtship, Devoted Reylo, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Exiled Prince Ben Solo, F/M, Falling In Love, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Longing, ParleyTinder, Pining, Pretty Dresses, Rey is Queen of Alderaan, Smitten Ben, Smut, Tapestries, The Thirst that was Promised, Thirsty Ben, Thirsty Rey, and the enemy, as Ben threatens to siege Rey's castle, but not depressing, crowns, dramatic skywalkers, drawbridges and towers, lol, parleys, sassy Rey, they are both extra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 09:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19438378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunilicious/pseuds/bunilicious
Summary: They all turned to look to him for guidance.The crown weighed heavily on Ben’s head as reality dawned on him. He was no longer an exiled prince with a claim to a land he’d never gazed upon before, he was no longer a figurehead at the vanguard of a foreign army.He was King. King of Alderaan. Newly anointed on the field of battle though he held only half the kingdom in his grasp.Anger seized him anew, the familiar desire to seek revenge on those who had wronged his family spreading through his veins like wildfire.“We will ride north,” he said, clenching his right fist in righteous fury. “We will root Lady Rey out of her keep and she will suffer the fate of all traitors. We will rip her out root and stem.”----------------A REYLO HISTORICAL AU





	1. War

**Author's Note:**

> I am back with another historical AU, which I hope you will all enjoy. This is inspired by my disappointment in Game of Thrones and my love for Reylo lmfao. Thank you to my beta LoveofEscapism!

When they placed the crown upon his head, he thought his anger would abate.

He was sorely mistaken.

As Ben looked down at the wretched man he had just slain to claim it, taking in the severed head and the sword impaled straight to the heart, he didn’t know whether to cry or scream. The golden band adorned with rubies had belonged to his grandfather, yet it provided no answers. Instead, it only presented questions.

And doubts.

So many it was almost difficult to calm his breath.

He stood on the field of battle, panting, with a crown of rubies on his head that matched the carnage which surrounded him. Dead bodies littered almost every inch of the large forest they’d chased the enemy into, their screams drowned by the slash of blades and the rustling of autumn leaves.

The Forest of Endor, they called it. He’d never seen it in his life, just as the kingdom he’d just conquered with an army of exiles and the houses loyal to his family, men and women who had flocked to his banner the moment he’d set foot on these foreign shores.

His family.

The legacy he’d sworn to uphold. The house who had once ruled the Kingdom of Alderaan, deposed by treasonous snakes and forced into exile in the desert kingdom of Tatooine. 

“House Palpatine is dead,” he spoke at last, turning his attention away from the mangled body of the usurper’s son, the man who had called himself king, and, like his father before him, had sent countless assassins to murder Ben in his exile.

They had all failed. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could still remember their faces.

“For twenty-nine years you have lain in wait and lived in fear, my friends. But not anymore.” Ben looked at the triumphant faces of his bannermen and soldiers, at the blood and mud which stained their skin and armor. “Your loyalty and bravery have brought us to victory today.”

The audience cheered in response, swords red with the enemy’s blood, raised to the heavens. Chants of ‘long live the King’ filled the air, carried through the woods by the autumnal wind. Still, the acclamation did nothing to abate the furious pounding in his chest, the righteous anger that still flowed through his veins and kept him afloat.

Revenge had always been the finest sustenance.

When the celebrations abated, and the soldiers were dismissed to round up the surviving enemy host, a shorter man stepped forward, his dark hair cropped short to his head, stained by splotches of dried blood.

“And House Skywalker lives once more, through you,” he said as he sheathed his sword in its scabbard. “Countless songs will be written about this day. We’ve endured much in our years in exile, but now we are finally home.”

_Home_.

The word, so simple and familiar to many, was foreign to Ben. Still, despite that, he mustered a nod, unwilling to think about it in this moment, where the feeling and smell of victory was still fresh in the minds of those who had followed him into battle and across the Hosnian Sea.

“Finn Calrissian,” he acknowledged the man in question, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You fought well today. And with this victory, your family’s seat in Bespin is back in the rightful hands of those who built it.”

“My father would be proud,” Finn replied with a brusque nod. “His life’s work regained. His legacy avenged. I’ve dreamt of this day for years.”

House Calrissian had been one of the few houses who’d escaped following the slaughter of the Skywalker family. Only Ben’s mother had survived the carnage alongside a few trusted advisors, fleeing from the banquet they had been invited to under false pretenses.

Ben knew the story well, repeated as it had been for years by the noble families who had raised him after his mother’s death on the birthing bed. House Organa was one of them, and its members had risked much during their exile to protect him – their lives extinguished mere weeks before Ben had set sail with his army, the unfortunate victims of yet another failed assassination attempt.

“The battle may be won, but the war is not yet over,” a third voice spoke, and Ben turned to watch as Lord Dameron approached him alongside a lady with dark hair and a brown dress.

Like Finn and him, Lord Dameron was also a child born in exile. His parents had died just two years before the Organas, victims of House Palpatine’s failure to poison the rightful heir of Alderaan on his twenty-seventh birthday.

“Poe, Lady Tico.” He nodded, willing the anger to recede, despite how tempting it was to succumb to it again, to unleash it as he’d done on the field of battle.

The victory on the battlefield, though grand, felt somehow hollow.

He clenched his jaw. “You have news, I suspect.”

“The usurper’s council has escaped,” Poe said with a grim look, the same look Ben had seen in Finn whenever he spoke of reclaiming his family home from those who had stolen it. “They fled during the battle like cowards.”

“To nobody’s surprise, I might add, Your Grace,” Lady Paige Tico continued. “House Palpatine surrounds itself with sycophants. Honor and bravery are foreign words to them.”

Ben could only nod. Of the four of them, only Lady Tico had been born and bred in Alderaan, her family falling prey to House Palpatine’s now infamous cruelty. 

As a child, he remembered hearing regularly how the usurper and his father had ruled over the kingdom with an iron fist, striking fear in the hearts of those who had once been loyal to House Skywalker for hundreds of years. House Tico had been among those families, and in the decades when darkness had reigned supreme, they had provided Ben and his supporters with crucial information. In fact, it was Lady Tico’s army that had turned the tide in this crucial battle. 

“They were spotted heading north,” Poe resumed, turning to look at Paige for further confirmation.

“There is only one place they could have gone to, and our scouts have confirmed it,” she continued, crossing her arms behind her back in a relaxed stance, the image of someone who was confident in the information they possessed.

Her pointed gaze, Ben knew, could only mean that the answer was obvious - something even a group of exiles could guess if they had a modicum of knowledge of Anderaanian history. 

The seat of House Palpatine.

“Takodana,” Finn muttered, sighing as he rubbed the back of his neck. “They might be cowards, but they are not stupid. Nobody has ever succeeded in laying siege to that fortress.”

Gritting his teeth, Ben turned around, his gaze colliding with that of the former king he’d just slain in single combat. The kill had been laughably easy. Decades of training under the finest masters at arms in Tatooine had taught him to prepare for every type of opponent, every slash and strike and underhanded maneuver.

The usurper, however, had posed no challenge whatsoever, a mere child playing at war despite his advanced age. 

Gripping his sword’s handle – fine leather and metalwork with a sapphire embedded in its pommel – Ben pulled the blade from his enemy’s chest, watching as the last fluids poured out onto the muddy grass.

With a sigh, the familiar anger still simmering in his veins, Ben sheathed his sword. “Then I suppose we shall be the first in history to claim this impenetrable fortress,” he simply replied, taking one last look at his enemy’s corpse.

The sight should have pleased him, filled him with the urge to cheer at his triumph. The most powerful man in Alderaan, beheaded and stabbed in the heart, his body covered with blood and grime like a common traitor. Yet the image did nothing to soothe the wounds which had been festering in Ben’s own heart for so many years, to erase the memories of a young child fleeing for his life.

Even now, he wanted more. His jaw clenched again.

As he faced his advisors, Ben regarded them with a knowing look. “It is only fitting that my enemies perish in the same stronghold they murdered my family in. The same castle that brought them to power.”

“Your Grace, you said that House Palpatine is dead, and that is true.” Paige stepped forward, placing her arms in front of her. “From a certain point of view.”

_Lady Rey, Princess of Alderaan, last heir to House Palpatine_.

Ben gave a wry smile. He’d heard of the usurper’s elusive daughter before, a passing thought in his war council for many years – a slip of a girl ten years his junior wallowing in a keep in the far north of Alderaan. Not even his most skillful spies could provide much information about her appearance or her character. Not even Lady Paige, with all her knowledge and connections, could offer that many details beyond the fact that she held the northernmost region in her grasp.

A small fist, but an iron one nonetheless.

“Nobody has seen her in years. For all they know she might be dead.”

“She is very much alive, I assure you,” Paige resumed. “My sister serves as her lady in waiting, though not by choice.” With a trembling breath, she glanced at the forest floor. “Rose is virtually a prisoner in that keep, her movements so scrutinized that it is a miracle whenever I receive news from her.”

Poe hummed in response. “The crown must be secured at any cost,” he said. “If House Palpatine’s loyalists flock to her banner, who knows what they might be capable of, in an impregnable fortress with an entire region under her thumb.”

“There are still some houses who have not declared their alliance to either side,” Finn pointed out, a thoughtful expression etched on his face. “News of this battle will spread quickly throughout the kingdom. We will make sure that they all know who they should declare for.”

They all turned to look to him for guidance.

The crown weighed heavily on Ben’s head as reality dawned on him. He was no longer an exiled prince with a claim to a land he’d never gazed upon before, he was no longer a figurehead at the vanguard of a foreign army.

He was King. King of Alderaan. Newly anointed on the field of battle, though he held only half the kingdom in his grasp.

Anger seized him anew, the familiar desire to seek revenge on those who had wronged his family spreading through his veins like wildfire.

“We will ride north,” he said, clenching his right fist in righteous fury. “We will root Lady Rey out of her keep and she will suffer the fate of all traitors. We will rip her out root and stem.”

\--


	2. Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would be so easy to kill him now.
> 
> All she had to do was give the order and the snake’s head would be cut off, leaving behind him a newly formed army without a figurehead to guide them. The men pledged to her family, used to such treachery and dishonor, would not be surprised in the least at such a request.
> 
> She would show them that, at the end of the day, she was her father’s daughter.
> 
> A true Palpatine.
> 
> Her father and grandfather would have certainly not balked when presented with such an opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so grateful for the support the previous chapter has received. Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the new update. Thank you to @loveofescapism for beta-ing

News of the battle spread quickly throughout the kingdom.

In her exile at Takodana, the ancient stronghold her family had owned for generations, Princess Rey watched as her father’s advisors bent the knee. The windows of the great hall had been drawn open, allowing the moon to shine its light across the room, bathing her skin and their silhouettes in a pale hue.

“The King is dead,” Lord Plutt proclaimed, head lowered. “You are his heir, and the last scion of House Palpatine.”

The bitterness in his voice did not escape her, no matter how much her father’s chief advisor tried to disguise it with his subservient gestures.

“I see,” she replied, taking a deep breath. For a brief moment, Rey wondered if the kneeling lords expected her to weep, to throw herself to the ground in agony considering the circumstances of his demise.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her ladies in waiting step inside the room, clutching thick tallow candles in their hands. Nodding, Rey granted them permission to approach, watching as they placed the items on a wooden table.

“He died in battle,” Lord Plutt continued with an angry voice as he stood up together with the other lords. “Slain in single combat by the pretender himself in the forest of Endor.”

The pretender...

_ Prince Benjamin Organa-Solo, the last of the Skywalkers. _

Her brows furrowed, taking in the valuable piece of information she’d just received, mapping out the movements of her father’s troops and their obvious retreat.

A daughter ought to feel sorrow at her father’s passing, yet she felt nothing except the desire to learn more.

Her father was not the sort of man one mourned. She would be lying if she claimed she hadn't longed for this moment.

_ But not like this.  _

“And the pretender?” she inquired instead, though, in her heart of hearts, Rey already knew the answer.

The men’s grim expressions were more than confirmation that he had triumphed. Otherwise, they would not have flocked to her banner. They would not have journeyed to the northernmost stronghold in the Kingdom of Alderaan to proclaim Rey as her father’s heir, when the man in question had done nothing but despise her mere existence.

“He crowned himself king on the battlefield,” Lord Plutt bit out. “Our scouts saw  _ his _ army march north, rallying the remaining houses to his cause. They will reach the gates of this castle in a fortnight.”

Standing at the center of the great hall, Rey wrapped her arms around her waist, the night wind billowing her nightgown’s hem and the matching white robe which covered it. “And what will you do when that happens, my lord?” she asked, eyes fixed upon his ruddy complexion.

Though having spent almost a decade in exile – banished from Coruscant by her father, lest he gaze daily upon the reminder that he had failed to sire the male heir he’d yearned for – Rey was no stranger to the intricacies of court politics. Even here, confined inside a castle located at the end of the world, she knew that its walls would do nothing to protect her.

The enemy outside her gates was just as dangerous as the one who had been granted entrance while she slumbered in her tower.

“Our loyalty belongs to House Palpatine,” he proclaimed, looking to the remaining lords for further encouragement.

They all confirmed their assent.

Clenching her fists, Rey nodded as well. It was a resigned nod, but the years had taught her how to mask it well.

Her survival had depended on it. 

“When your grandfather dethroned House Skywalker, our families stood beside him, knowing what would happen if he failed.”

“I know my family’s history well, Lord Plutt,” she said, her eyes darting to the side just as her ladies in waiting lowered their gazes to the ground.

House Palpatine’s reign had been forged with blood and broken oaths, its infancy marked by the near extinction of a great house which had ruled Alderaan for centuries. Her grandfather had slain them all in this very room, watched as their blood poured onto the stone floor while he feasted.

Only the king’s daughter had escaped, her belly heavy with child and her heart filled with revenge.

“Then you know that you are Queen now,” he told her, his voice demanding. “Regardless of what the Skywalker heir claims.”

His right hand moved to rest on his sword’s pommel. Whether the movement was involuntarily done or not, Rey did not venture a guess. The cold shiver running down her spine was proof enough that she would rather not find out.

Biting her lower lip, she nodded. "I know my duty well, my lord." 

It would be a lie to claim she hadn't dreamt of being Queen. To claim she hadn't wished she could spite her father, even in his final moments and beyond. To claim she did not want to rule and restore Alderaan to its former glory. 

_ But not now…not under these circumstances.  _

If her father’s men had not descended upon this stronghold, seeking protection from an exiled prince bent on revenge, perhaps she might have had a chance to survive his wrath. 

“It is done then,” Lord Plutt exclaimed, gripping the sword’s hilt with his short fingers, the others following suit.

When the men raised their weapons in grim proclamation, Rey knew their choice had been made. 

She had been waiting for this moment her entire life. 

_ But, not like this.  _

The thought remained unspoken, as it was the wisest under the present circumstances. Her father's advisors might loathe her less than House Skywalker, but she was not deceived into mistaking that dislike for love. 

_ Yet they are all I have. I have no love here.  _

With hurried steps, her ladies in waiting scurried to produce her crown, tucked away in her chamber, where no man loyal to her father would dare find it. 

The crown she'd stolen from her father's vault upon her banishment, a defiant gesture she'd used to fuel her silent ambitions. 

She would do her duty. No matter the cost. 

~*~

She was Queen of Alderaan and yet she had no kingdom.

The crown weighed heavily on Rey’s head as she took her seat at the head of the table. The war room was small, rendered even more stifling by the heat of the candles and her dead father’s advisors. The armored men were leaning forward, pouring over maps and arguing about strategic locations.

Her two ladies in waiting adjusted her crown, a thin gold band adorned with round sapphires which had belonged to Rey's mother – dead before her time, as all the other women her father had married and disposed of in his fruitless pursuit of a male heir.

At nineteen, Rey was older than her mother had ever been.

“Rose, Kaydel,” she called out, seeing as the two young women were about to depart. “You may stay.”

She kept her expression impassive and her voice steady, putting the years of training to good use, lest everyone suspect how overwhelmed she truly was. How much she needed to gaze upon a friendly face in the midst of the vipers who had slithered through Takodana’s gate to suffocate her.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Rose said with a calm demeanor, taking a seat on a wooden bench. It was located in front of the war room’s sole window - opened to let the night breeze in, albeit with very little result.

Kaydel followed suit, neatening her brown robe as she sat down.

Turning around to look at the maps, Rey caught glimpse of Lord Plutt’s narrowed brows, his eyes reduced to slits as he sat down at the other end of the table.

She knew the reason behind his expression well, and doubtless he would confirm it when the time came. From the moment he’d barged through the castle gates, he’d shown no intention to keep his opinions private.

“Your sister has pledged her army to the Skywalker cause,” Lord Plutt proclaimed. “It was House Tico’s betrayal in the eve of battle that shifted the tide.”

Rey glanced up, watching as Plutt directed his harsh stare at Rose. 

Fisting her hands on her lap, Rose regarded him with a composed look. “Are you implying that I knew this would happen, my lord?”

He gritted his teeth. “Is that not clear?”

“Lady Rose had no involvement in it, Lord Plutt,” Rey intervened. “You needn’t judge her for her sister’s sins.”

Leaning against the backrest, she took a deep breath. Lady Paige’s betrayal did not come as much of a surprise. When her grandfather had seized control of Alderaan, House Tico had paid a great price for their loyalty to the Skywalkers – their rebellion subdued only by House Palpatine’s iron fist. It was only, upon Rey’s exile from Coruscant ten years ago, that an olive branch had been extended, spurred by the requirement for new ladies in waiting whose families did not object to a life deprived of the pleasures at court.

Disgraced families who were desperate to seek favor in any place they could find.

Placing her hands on the armrests, she resumed her perusal of the great map of Alderaan, studying the possible movements of the Skywalker army.

“We will meet them on the field of battle,” she heard Lord Plutt say. “The majority of the Skywalker forces are exiles – vermin who have little knowledge of the land.” His fist collided with the wooden table. “We will use that to our advantage.”

The lords in attendance murmured their agreement, a sound Rey could only compare to that of a herd of sheep. Leaning forward, she gazed at the winding road leading to Takodana, slithering through the forest of Endor like a snake. A dozen strongholds stood between the woods and this castle, most of them the homes of minor families who stayed silent when her father had called his banners.

_ Of course,  _ she mused to herself, the solution etched clearly. Paint on parchment.

“Lord Plutt,” she spoke out, her voice loud enough to carry over, silencing the murmuring lords. “You said that the pretender is rallying support on his journey here.”

He flashed her an annoyed look, the type of look someone gave to a person they thought stupid. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I did.”

Tilting her head upwards, she met his eyes. “Then it will take him longer than a fortnight to reach this keep. Even if he successfully rallies all the remaining houses, he will still need time to transport the appropriate siege weapons.”

“Siege weapons?”

“Only a fool would dare meet them in the open field, and they know it,” she said, letting her palms rest on the map. “In case you’ve forgotten, my lord, we lost our army at Endor, and a dozen lords arguing around a table can hardly take on double that number, let alone the thousands of soldiers House Skywalker commands.”

When the pretender had sailed across the Hosnian Sea, news had travelled that he commanded an army of ten thousand men. The number had been meager according to Alderaanian standards, when even the smallest region could easily muster a host of one thousand men if given appropriate time to prepare. However, when he had first set foot on Alderaan’s shores, the numbers had doubled seemingly overnight, as if the people had lain in wait for their king all along.

_ Who knows how many more will follow, now that he wears my father’s crown? Now that news has travelled that he’d slain the king himself. _

“An army of exiles,” Lord Plutt bit out, his face scrunched. 

Rey shook her head, and when she spoke her voice was carefully even. “A large army motivated by a crucial victory, rallying the houses who bid their time long enough for the tide to shift in favor of one side.” 

She leveled him with a calm stare, one that she knew would unnerve him far more than if she had raised her voice in protest. “To meet them in battle, outnumbered as we are, with only my father’s advisers and the small garrison in Takodana, is suicide. You will all die.”

The other lords murmured once more, as if they could finally see her point.

“Takodana was blessed with a generous harvest this year,” she continued, scanning the room so that she could look into the eyes of each lord in attendance. “Our coffers are full, and, with the blessing of the Gods, we might be successful in holding them off until the first snows fall. Preparing for a siege is the most sensible option...given our circumstances.”

She stood up, hands gripping the edge of the table. “Southern armies do not fare well in winter. We can only hope the same misfortune extends to exiled ones.”

“This is madness,” Lord Plutt protested, going to his feet so quickly his chair fell down with a loud crash.

“This is logic,” Rey countered in an even tone. “The component my decision as Queen is based on.”

Leaning forward, she used her palms for support. “I am certain you remember, my lord, that you named me my father’s heir. The last scion of House Palpatine.”

“Your father would roll in his grave if he knew you planned for us to cower behind walls like children.”

Her lips quirked. “It is a shame he doesn’t have a grave to roll in.”

~*~

As soon as the sun rose on the horizon, preparations for the siege began in earnest.

Banners to call, Rey had none. The last Skywalker had seen to it, his northern campaign so effective that not a day went by without hearing news of another house who had rallied to his cause, or of another feast thrown in his honor, before his army continued its march. The grim messages were always delivered by weary scouts and flocks of ravens, the latter arriving in such great numbers the rookery overflowed with croaks and feathers.

Each missive she intercepted, be it related to the upcoming confrontation or not – for even though she knew nobody would write to her personally, Rey was not deceived into thinking the people she surrounded herself with were just as cut off from the world as she was.

Others, unlike her, had people who cared for them on the other side. 

“You should have never opened the gates,” Lord Plutt said, his heavy steps echoing in the great hall of Takodana. Around them, men and women carried large wooden crates laden with supplies, gathering as much of the harvest from the surrounding areas as they could. “These filthy peasants are nothing more than useless mouths to feed.”

Turning away from the window, where she had been observing a handful of archers practice in the inner courtyard, she regarded her new advisor with a serene look.

Only she was allowed to know the disdain that lurked beneath her veneer of tranquility.

“These  _ filthy peasants _ , as you call them, are my people. Innocent men, women, and children. The fruit of their labor is what keeps us from starving every winter. To deny them protection when the enemy host is approaching would be unjust.  _ Cruel _ .”

“House Palpatine has always thrived when it was at its cruelest.” He paced around the room, his boots heavy on the stone floor. “Compassion is nothing but weakness. An impracticality.”

“An impracticality is to deny those who can wield a weapon the opportunity to protect their land,” she replied, leaning against the wall, her back protected from the stone by a tapestry depicting the fall of House Skywalker. 

It was the proof of the cruelty Lord Plutt praised so highly, commissioned alongside several others by her grandfather mere days after his ascension to the throne. “An impracticality is refusing to aid the people one intends to rule.”

“Your father would scoff at your soft heart.”

“My father is not here to pass judgement,” she replied, her palms brushing against the material, the tips of her nails fiddling with the thread.

__

Upon her arrival at Takodana, her father had commanded that the tapestries remain as they were or face his wrath. They were, Rey knew, a daily reminder of the greatness of House Palpatine and how much she’d failed to live up to his expectations. She would have thrown them away, had it not been for the arrival of her father’s advisors and their misguided hopes that she was every inch her father’s daughter.

To dispose of them now, would be a risk too great to take. She was threading a fine line as it was, disagreeing with her council at every step. If Lord Plutt’s army hadn’t been vanquished, if his stronghold hadn’t already been captured by the pretender, she suspected he would have claimed the crown himself and killed all those who stood in his path.

“The Skywalker heir is gaining more and more allies each day, as you well know, my lord,” Rey continued, giving him a direct look. “If we hope to survive this siege until winter, we need every man and woman who can pick up a weapon to fight. You are a man of war, so I trust you can understand our odds.”

He said nothing, clenching his jaw as an awkward silence descended upon the room, pierced only by the men and women piling up crates at the end of the great hall.

The same peasants who had been subjected to Lord Plutt’s insults.

She stepped away from the tapestry, an uncomfortable knot forming in her stomach.

“I heard one of our scouts arrived earlier today,” Lord Plutt said after a moment.

Rey nodded, knowing full well her new advisor could easily receive this confirmation elsewhere. “House Connix has joined the pretender’s cause,” she replied, turning her back so she could resume her watch from the window. 

A group of small children had arrived at the gates, holding their mothers’ hands as the guards ushered them all inside with haste.

_ When this is all over, will they have a home to return to?  _ she could not help but wonder. The Skywalker heir had not done much in the way of pillaging, the size of his army and recent victory enough to persuade even the most doubtful. However, she knew well that the settlements directly linked to Takodana might not be as fortunate.

“Another traitorous lady in waiting,” Plutt mused, and Rey could swear she detected the satisfied tone in his voice.

As their third week of preparations drew to a close, she was almost certain the entire kingdom would show up in front of the castle gates.

“You should have them executed, of course,” he resumed, his steps growing nearer and nearer until she was certain if she turned around, he would be looming over her in a show of intimidation.

Squaring her shoulders, Rey stood rooted to the floor, her gaze still fixed on the happenings below, watching as a few young lads were brought in front of a line of practice dummies.

__

“I have seen no evidence of betrayal on their part, and I will not punish them for the sins of their families,” she replied, her heart constricting at the sight of a young boy shooting an arrow at a target made of straw and fabric.

_ House Palpatine is known for its cruelty. Am I cruel too…for sanctioning this? _

Or were her people so grateful to be offered shelter, that they were willing to place their lives on the line for what looked like a lost cause?

Her family, Rey knew well by now, had no love in this kingdom. She’d never held a child accountable for its father’s mistakes, but she knew not many shared this sentiment. The families who had joined House Skywalker’s side would surely see her hang on the basis of her name alone.

“There is one last family who has betrayed our cause.”

_ Oh. _ Rey’s eyes widened at that, disappointment in herself coursing through her veins at the thought that there was one message she might have missed, a piece of news which had been brought to someone else before her.

Schooling her features in an impassive look, she turned around, watching as Lord Plutt produced a small scroll. “This came only a few minutes ago from Niima Outpost,” he said, giving her the small piece of rounded parchment. “It will likely be the last message we receive from our base. The pretender should have already claimed it by now.”

“I see.”

Taking it in her hands, she unrolled the missive, certain Plutt had already read it at least twice before setting foot in the great hall.

Niima Outpost was only half a day’s ride from Takodana. She’d kept a small garrison there only for the sake of information, knowing full well the stronghold would fall the moment the enemy attacked.

She scanned the messy writing, likely the result of a man rushing to commit to paper the last words before his inevitable death.

She read the message, and it took every ounce of effort not to weep.

House Kenobi had joined the Skywalker cause. 

Even her dead mother’s family would see her hang.

~*~

She’d never met her mother’s family.

Her father had never allowed it, keeping track of her every movement even after he’d banished her from court. What she knew of her mother could very well be reduced to a handful of words and brief phrases.

Nevertheless, the betrayal, if she could ever refer to it as such, still hurt – as unsurprising as it was. Though bound by blood, she was nothing but a stranger to them.

“He is here,” Lady Rose proclaimed as she entered Rey’s chamber, arms crossed behind her back.

Sitting on a chair, Rey turned her gaze away from the window. “I know,” she replied, in a calm tone, hiding the dejection which took root in her chest.

The large army posted outside her gates was not difficult to miss, and neither were the tents in the distance, visible from her vantage point inside Takodana’s highest tower. Even the catapults and mangonels were hard to miss.

_ A victory against such odds would be nothing short of a miracle _ .

With the thought in mind, she resumed her vigil, focusing on a handful of figures standing nearest to the moat, waiting for the drawbridge to lower. 

One figure, however, stood closest to the edge, dressed in full armor as dark as night, his face concealed by a matching helmet.

There was no doubt in her mind as to who that was. 

She heard Rose approach her. “He has requested a parley,” she said, leaning forward to observe.

“Of course,” Rey could only reply, watching as the imposing figure tilted his face upwards. 

Though she could not glimpse his face, she saw from his movements that he was studying the archers posted on Takodana’s battlements, bows and arrows drawn in preparation.

_ It would be so easy to kill him now. _

All she had to do was give the order and the snake’s head would be cut off, leaving behind him a newly formed army without a figurehead to guide them. The men pledged to her family, used to such treachery and dishonor, would not be surprised in the least at such a request.

She would show them that, at the end of the day, she was her father’s daughter.

A true Palpatine.

Her father and grandfather would have certainly not balked when presented with such an opportunity.

“It is up to you to grant it,” Rose continued, her hand resting on the window’s edge. 

It was natural to prefer a confrontation that ended in negotiation instead of bloodshed. She knew as much from the books she’d poured over in the library countless times, her exile providing ample time to improve her meager education. Sieges were too time-consuming and expensive, and a newly crowned monarch would most certainly prefer solidifying his rule rather than embark on another lengthy campaign.

Benjamin Organa-Solo, the last Skywalker, was certainly no exception it seemed. 

From afar, Rey could see his stance, and even the heavy armor concealing his face and body did nothing to betray his impatience, the stiff posture and squared shoulders proof enough that he’d gathered all his forces in a display of intimidation.

The wind kissed her face, a brisk autumn breeze with the smell of impending rain. Looking up, she took in the gathering clouds, grey and furious.

It would be so easy to leave him standing in the rain. To humiliate a new king in front of his army.

“His messengers claim that he is eager to negotiate terms that will benefit all parties involved.”

Turning around, Rey took in Rose’s appearance, pausing at her flushed skin and widened eyes. “And you believe him? This man you’ve never met, who set foot on our shores with revenge coursing through his veins?”

Rose squared her jaw, removing her hand from the windowsill. “I don’t know what I believe.”

_ You only know your family and their forces stand beside him _ , she mused, neatening her blue dress.

“If you were me, what would you do?” Rey asked instead, placing her hands in her lap.

Shaking her head, Rose turned away. “I wouldn’t presume…”

Rey stood up, pacing across the room until she could stand in front of her lady in waiting. “I may be younger than you are, but I am not naïve,” she added. “Whenever I heard of a new decision my father made, I always paused to wonder whether I would have done the same in his stead. It would be foolish to assume the people under my command wouldn’t do the same.”

“You are not your father,” Rose said. “Whatever decisions he would have reached, you would have disagreed with.”

Her lips quirked. “In other circles, those words would constitute as treason.”

“Not in yours,” came the reply, spoken as her eyebrows arched, laden with understanding. “We’ve endured much in the ten years we’ve lived here, have we not?”

With a shrug, Rey went back to the window, eyes darting in the direction of the solitary figure armored in black, facing the archers with a defiance she would have greatly admired if not for him being an enemy. “And we need only endure a little while longer.”

Turning around, she regarded Rose’s expectant glance. “I will meet him now,” she said, fiddling with the fabric of her dress. “Send word to my council and ask Kaydel to come upstairs. I need an armor of my own.”

~*~

She wore a gown of white silk, fitted and laced at the back with gold thread. Her girdle boasted the same gilded hue, embroidered with delicate wildflowers around her waist that matched the hem of the long angel sleeves. Her shoes were also white, peeking out from beneath the full skirt as Rey walked down the winding staircase which led into the inner courtyard. Her ladies in waiting and council trailed behind in an elaborate procession.

When Rey paused before the closed gates, Kaydel stepped beside her to adjust her crown, the thin gold band of sapphires layered between her headrail and the long gauzy veil which reached down to her hips – the same length as her unbraided hair.

“Are you attending a parley or a wedding?” Kaydel whispered in her ear before she withdrew, stifling a smile.

Rey placed her arms in front of her, letting one hand rest gently on top of the other.

_ Let them believe what they wish _ , she thought as she gestured for the drawbridge to lower. The people waiting outside the castle walls had either never laid eyes on her, or hadn’t seen her since she was a child flanked by her father’s guards in Coruscant.

The sound of pulleys and winches drew Rey away from her reveries and, straightening her spine, she prepared herself to meet with the pretender for the first time.

_ Benjamin Organa-Solo _ ,  _ heir to House Skywalker _ .

As the chains rattled, she wondered how to address him. Your Grace, a tacit admission of his claim, was certainly out of the question. Lord Solo he’d never been, his father a mere commoner who’d married above his station, from what she’d been told. The origins of the Organa name were a mystery to her.

She wondered what he looked like beneath the menacing helmet.

When his figure came into view, broad and armored and ridiculously tall from up close, a strange flutter settled itself in her chest – small and fragile like the wings of a butterfly.

Squeezing her hand with the other, she walked forward on the wooden bridge, her steps small yet purposeful, her eyes constantly locked on the masked warrior. As she moved, she told herself it was only to avoid the harsh gazes of those who’d accompanied him.

He filled her with courage, and he was none the wiser.

Behind her, the lords and her ladies in waiting advanced as well, and though Rey could not see them she imagined the hostility etched on the grim faces of her father’s closest advisors.

In the confines of Takodana, she’d defied them, choosing to act in a way that was unlike that of any member of House Palpatine. It was a manner in keeping with how she’d ruled over the surrounding lands before her banishment had taken such a dramatic turn. 

But here, under the careful scrutiny of her enemies, she had to become the loyal daughter of the man they despised. To maintain a united front in order to survive the coming siege.

She stopped halfway across the drawbridge, several steps away from him before she spoke at last. 

“Do you intend to take off your mask, or are you too afraid to face me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now they meet! :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the glimpse into Rey's life in Takodana. If you liked this update, please don't hesitate to leave comments and kudos. Your support keeps me going.


	3. Parley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you been robbed of speech, Lord Solo?” she asked, voice etched with mock concern, loud enough for his followers to hear. “Such a shame.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a pretty busy end of the month, but I was able to update this story. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like the new chapter. Thank you to @Loveofescapism for beta-ing.

If the outraged huffs were any indication, her enemies had expected her to cower. To emerge from the stronghold a meek and submissive subject, clutching her family’s banner in defeat.

Tilting her chin up, Rey observed as he squared his shoulders, the gesture of a man who tried to feed himself with determination and courage.

“Have you been robbed of speech, Lord Solo?” she asked, voice etched with mock concern, loud enough for his followers to hear. “Such a shame.”

His hands went up, large and gloved in fine black leather, and he touched the sides of his helmet in silent response. As he gripped the metal armor, a strange shiver coursed through her frame, anticipation taking root in her chest. Her heart began pounding so loudly she was almost certain he could hear it despite the distance between them. 

When he removed his helmet, it took every effort to contain a gasp.

_ He is young _ , she remarked to herself, as she watched him approach with his host, walking with a determined stride until he stood only a breadth away from her, halfway across the drawbridge. 

His hair was the color of night, a fitting match to the dark armor he wore, but his long locks were also soft and wavy as they brushed against his broad shoulders. His face – so pale she wondered if he’s ever once stepped out to bask in the sunlight – was an enigma considering he’d spent his entire life in a desert kingdom. Yet, the skin was dotted by beauty marks that only enhanced the softness of his features, so unlike that of any man she’d laid eyes on before.

As he opened his mouth, plump lips that looked unsettlingly inviting, she found it very difficult to look away.

“Lady Rey,” he acknowledged her with a piercing look, scanning her figure from the tips of her shoes to the crown of her head.

When she had first heard of the exiled prince as a child, she had imagined him as being much, much older. Then, with the passing of time, as she grew from a child of nine to a maid of nineteen, it was not hard to picture him as an ancient man with a thirst for a throne he would never have. Not a single month passed without some news from the capital regarding his whereabouts, fleeing from stronghold to stronghold, escaping more attempts on his life than she had fingers.

“He  _ speaks _ ,” she said instead, ignoring the incessant fluttering in her lower belly as his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“He sees too,” came his reply, gaze unwavering, yet filled with an anger that shook her to the core. “I expected you would be in mourning, Lady Rey.”

“We all mourn in different ways.” She tilted her head to the side, her face a mask of nonchalance, one she knew would be misinterpreted as a daughter trying to hide the extent of her grief.

Only she knew the truth that lay beneath. The death of a tyrant could hardly be mourned.

“Have you come to offer your condolences, my lord?” she asked with mock curiosity. “Please save your empty words for someone foolish enough to believe them. If my father were still alive, you would have been dead and buried. I doubt you regret his passing.”

“No,” he said, letting out a chuckle his brown eyes crinkling with amusement so openly in way that unnerved her. “I do not regret it. Yet  _ honor _ compels me to offer them, nonetheless, Lady Rey. A foreign concept to  _ some _ .”

_ Honor. _

A word which Rey knew her family scarcely deserved, the name tainted forever by the dishonorable deeds of those who came before her. He was the living embodiment of her family’s disgrace, of the shame that now unjustly tainted her. 

All she’d ever wanted was to prove to the world that she was unlike the men in her family who’d ruled before her. She’d reigned over Takodana and its people for years, lying in wait until the moment came for her to be queen and rule with a mercy they had never seen.

And now, an exiled prince had shown up at the castle’s gates, demanding she hand over everything she’d built. To cast aside the years of loneliness and fear she’d known under her father’s iron fist. 

To hail him as her monarch or die, only because he came from the right family. 

_ Why should I be less deserving of a crown than he? _

“Let us dispense of meaningless pleasantries, my lord,” she said in response, neatening her white skirt with her palms. “I know very well you are not here out of concern for my well-being.”

His lips quirked at that, yet the fury in his eyes did not abate. “Surely you must know you are fighting for a lost cause.”

“We are fighting for our lands,” she retorted, sensing a heat spread across the apples of her cheeks, despising that this was one reaction she could not control. “We are fighting for lands you have never known before you set foot here to demand that we forget everything we have worked for. I…we have a cause.”

“A cause resting on its last legs before it inevitably collapses,” he said in response. “You cannot hold this fortress forever, and you know it. Certainly not in front of the largest army in Alderaan’s history.”

She took a deep breath. “My people have bled for their kingdom and they will continue to do so. They are loyal to their country and monarch.”

“I  _ am _ their monarch.”

“You are nothing but a usurper,” she said, though she knew from the painful shiver coursing through her veins how difficult it was to contain her reaction, to maintain an unflappable veneer. “Your court is loyal to no one. A group of exiles currying for favors and lands, minds clouded by misplaced revenge. You are no better than mercenaries.”

His mouth curled up at that, and he broke into a laugh. “Misplaced?” Shaking his head, he let out a deep sigh. “The only thing we are seeking is our home. The home that belonged to our parents – the one that you so cruelly took.”

“Me?” she asked taking a deep breath to compose herself. “Are you holding me accountable for the actions of those who came before my rule?”

“Your rule?” He lifted his chin up. “I only see another usurper. Not the rightful monarch.”

“What makes you think you deserve to rule this kingdom over anyone else? What have you ever done to earn it besides win a battle through the efforts of someone else’s army?”

“Sometimes bloodshed is all it takes. House Palpatine is no stranger to it, except my victory was achieved with honor and loyalty.”

“Loyalty? To whom? To your family's lost name, but certainly not to  _ you _ ." Her blood boiled in a veins, a fiery river threatening to consume. “You were brought up as a mere figurehead, a puppet they can use to quench their thirst for revenge and regain a plot of land. What have  _ you _ done for Alderaan to deserve to rule it? You’ve never even seen this kingdom until a few weeks ago.”

“And you believe the lords cowering inside this fortress are loyal to  _ you _ ? You believe that you have done much for this kingdom when you’ve never set a foot outside this fortress in  _ years _ ?" 

His eyes narrowed, yet they remained curiously soft despite the fury simmering at the surface. The fury...and the pain she saw concealed within. He was impossibly easy to read, like a book left open in the library for the entire audience to peruse. 

His gaze deepened. "If I am exiled, then so are you.”

It took every effort to contain the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, the liquid proof of his harsh truth. But...she had told truths as well.

Taking a deep breath, Rey continued. “Unlike you, Lord Solo, in my supposed exile I made sure to care for the people who depend upon this fortress for their survival. They have fled your army and asked for my protection.”

“And, if you care about them, you will surrender your castle to me or face the consequences," he said in a matter of fact tone, as if they were having an ordinary conversation at the breakfast table. 

“If I care about them, I will continue to fight. They sought refuge here to escape the likes of you." The wind billowed her veil as she spoke. "What kind of queen would I be if I did not consider the safety and well-being of my people?”

His lips quirked. “It amuses me that House Palpatine has developed a sudden interest in the people they rule," came his reply. "Tales of your family’s cruelty have reached even the most remote lands known to man.”

"And, without knowing who I am, you believe me to be their exact replica, then?" 

Running a hand through his windswept hair, he let out an impatient sigh. "I don't believe it," he bit out, jaw clenched. "I know it." 

As she shook her head, her arms rested limply by her sides. "You could not be more wrong." 

"You need not disguise your intentions in my presence, Lady Rey," he told her, his voice filled with contempt. "Do you think we don't know that the only reason you've allowed innocents to take shelter inside this keep is to use them for your own gain?" 

Rey’s fists clenched at that, anger mixed with indignation that he would accuse her of such a falsehood.That he would scrutinize her every gesture without knowledge and equate her decisions to those of her family. 

Her voice was low when she spoke, otherwise she was certain it might tremble. "You don't know anything that happens between these walls."

"Innocent men, women and children, forced to take up a weapon because you are too proud to surrender with honor,” he bit out. “Forced to become nothing but human shields to prevent them from joining  _ my _ side." 

Her mind flashed to the archers she'd glimpsed earlier today from the great hall, the sight of the boy too young for war shooting at a straw target. 

_ House Palpatine is known for its cruelty. Were my protective measures cruel…or necessary?  _

She shook her head. "That is not true."

He was riling her up. At the back of her mind, Rey knew this was a cheap provocation, a way to gain an advantage by turning the people inside against her. 

_ A cheap provocation, but a horribly effective one.  _

The archers stood atop the battlements, and, if she turned around, she was certain she could identify the young innocents who'd never picked up a weapon before. The usurper had scanned the battlements as well. One trained look was all it took to figure out the sorry state of her army, the drastic measures she'd had to take in order to survive. 

Swallowing heavily, Rey looked away to steady herself, her gaze fixed upon his scabbard, watching as the sapphire embedded in his weapon's pommel glimmered. "Murderous snake," she muttered. 

He fixed her with a pointed stare. "You are exactly like your grandfather," he spoke with a lowered voice. 

_ No _ , she wanted to scream, but the word had wedged itself in her throat, stifled by the urge to cry. He’d taken her worst fear and split it open, voicing it for their entire audience to hear. Behind him, stood the people she had hoped to rule, the men and women she wanted with all her might to convince that she was unlike the kings that came before.

And, in front of them all stood the monarch they had chosen to follow, voicing what she knew they all thought. Tears pricked at her eyes.

_ They have never given me a chance. Will they ever...as long as he lives? _

He continued, voice etched with disdain. "You are the spitting image of your father." 

She slapped him then, tears rolling down her cheeks. "You're a monster." 

"Yes, I am," he whispered, cupping his left cheek with a gloved hand, his eyes impossibility sad. "I am the monster of your family’s making." 

  
  


~*~

  
  


Behind them, the fires of hell broke loose. 

  
  


Though they stood rooted to the ground in silent disbelief and fury, their advisors were quick to separate them. A fleshy hand wrapped itself around Rey's elbow, yanking her away before she could protest, the grip so painful it was a miracle it hadn't crushed her bones. A cry left her lips as hazel eyes collided one last time with brown orbs - his gaze widening as she was roughly dragged across the bridge. 

Before she could register what the look meant, Rey found herself back behind Takodana’s walls, listening as the drawbridge went up with a loud rattle, her cheeks still wet with tears. Soldiers flanked her as she was led across the inner courtyard, arms linked with those of her ladies in waiting. From behind her, Lord Plutt’s voice followed, gruff and filled with fury.

“You’ve ruined everything,” he bellowed. "How are we supposed to last until winter?" 

His words fell on deaf ears. Beneath the turmoil and chaos that reigned inside her mind, lay a singular pair of brown eyes, with a gaze so haunting and angry it was almost too difficult to stand. 

And, beneath that angry gaze, lay something else. 

_ Pain.  _ So much pain it was a miracle he'd survived as long as he had in exile, and not wallowed in it for all eternity, lost and impotent. 

Revenge had been his sustenance, and it had served him well. As it did his followers. 

They would have her head if it meant quieting that hateful demon, of that Rey was certain. 

"There is no escaping this," Plutt continued to complain, his breathing growing more and more gruff as they advanced up the stairs. "We'll be dead before sunrise." 

The young monarch was so open with his emotions, so raw and honest it was truly a shock for Rey to behold. He would have never survived her father's court, the pit of vipers coiled around him in search for any weakness. 

And yet, despite possessing characteristics that should have damned him, he was loved. People had rallied under his banner and followed him across the Hosnian Sea, from one end of the world to the other, while others had prepared themselves for his arrival from the moment he'd been born into this world. 

He was loved and valued. He was something she would never be. 

She despised him. She admired him. 

Behind her, Plutt continued thundering. "He will slaughter us all, and it will be your fault." 

_ No.  _

Rey turned around, stopping at the foot of the stairway which led to her chamber. "No," she said with a steady voice. 

Her ladies in waiting did not advance either, and, from the corner of her eyes, Rey could see their expressions shift as tension left their faces. 

_ I am the monster of your family’s making. _

"He will not harm you without cause," she said, his final words sinking in at last, dispelling the mist and chaos. 

_ He may be hurt, but he is not cruel.  _ The thought took root in her mind, fed by her memory of their final moments in front of Takodana's gates. 

She recalled the look he'd given her just as Plutt had yanked her away with his painful grip. The slight widening of his eyes, those dark pools of anger and hurt leaving enough room for another emotion, so small it might well have been a flickering star. 

But it was there. 

"You are a fool," Plutt bellowed, looming over her like a menacing beast. 

She shook her head. If there was one fool, it was the man who’d yanked her away from the parley, displaying his character for all to see.

Gritting her teeth, Rey looked up, giving him a sharp look. "Disrespect me like this again and I will have you drawn and quartered." She took one step forward, gaze unflinching. "It will be a display so spectacular it will put my father's executions to shame." 

"He will -" 

"I do not wish to hear you speak today, Lord Plutt. You would do well to remain quiet if you value your life as much as you've just advertised." 

When he said nothing, she turned away, climbing the first stone steps leading up to the tallest tower.

When she reached her chamber, hands brushing against the door's handle, Rey turned around to look at her audience, focusing on Lord Plutt's furious face. 

"He will harm  _ you _ ," she said, her voice loud enough to carry. "But he will never harm me. Remember that." 

  
\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this chapter, please don't hesitate to leave comments and kudos. I'll have to update the chapter count, since these two have only just met. I have a lot of ideas for this fic, so stay tuned. :)


	4. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She will never submit to you,” Lord Kenobi replied, the corners of his mouth quirking slightly. “I don’t know her well, it is true, but from your parley earlier today, I can tell you that much.”
> 
> “Then…then she will die," Ben said, and as soon as the words left his lips he knew them to be lies. "As…all my enemies did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your patience! I hope you enjoy this update. Thank you to @loveofescapism for beta-ing.

\--

“We should attack at dawn,” Lord Dameron said, leaning over the map of Takodana's surrounding areas. 

Ben sat at the head of the table, observing as his council muttered an assent. They had set up camp just a mile away from the castle, blue tents littering the field alongside the new siege weapons graciously supplied by House Skywalker's northern allies. From inside the largest tent, which served as both his war room and sleeping quarters, Ben could hear the unmistakable sound of swords clashing in practice. 

"Lady Rey's actions were indeed very telling," Paige murmured in agreement. "She will not yield peacefully, if her advisers have anything to say about it." 

_ Lady Rey.  _

The name played on his lips, and it took every ounce of self-control to stifle the need to say it out loud, over and over. 

The first glimpse of her had been staggering, a vision in white as the drawbridge lowered to reveal her lithe frame, clothed in fine silk with gold thread, his grandmother’s crown atop her head - a band of sapphires so delicate it might as well have been an angel’s halo. Dressed like a bride walking down the aisle, she was the epitome of an enlightened monarch, so calm and purposeful as she approached him, unaware of the turmoil churning in his mind.

Or, Ben paused, gripping the armrest, perhaps she’d known from the very beginning the reaction she would cause. Perhaps her intent had been to confuse him during the negotiation with her beauty, to catch him with his guard down in such a crucial moment.

"The quicker this ends, the better," Finn said, drumming his fingers against the wooden table. "We are all eager for peace, are we not?" 

It took Ben a brief moment to realize Finn had been talking to him. Loosening his grip on the armrest, he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. 

"We are," he replied, eyes fixed on the map, scanning the drawbridge where he'd first met her. "The kingdom has bleed enough." 

"It need only bleed one final time," Poe said with a determined voice. "Once we have conquered Takodana, we will finally rule in peace. This victory will begin to make things right."

Ben pursed his lips, letting the words sink in. That was what he had thought in Endor, when he'd slain the usurper in single combat. Yet, as he'd watched the life drain out of his enemy's eyes, peace did not wash over him as he had expected. 

Would it do so if he spilled her blood as well? Bile rose in his throat at the thought.

"You disagree," Finn spoke in a matter of fact tone. "It is written all over your face." 

_ Yes.  _ He gritted his teeth. He'd always been an open book, his face too expressive, his temper too unrestrained to conceal his deepest thoughts. 

It was a great flaw for a monarch to possess. Of that he was certain. 

"A siege against a fortress that has never been conquered in its long history," he mused, his crown of rubies weighing heavily atop his head. "You cannot blame me for being skeptical."

“You saw the state of her army,” Poe insisted. “They cannot last much longer if we immediately start on the offensive.”

Looking up, Ben took in the curious glances of his council, men and women of all ages, the heads of old families who had bled alongside House Skywalker for generations. Most of the great houses had followed him to war, and now they all flanked him, arms behind their backs in anticipation. The great majority he'd never seen before setting a foot on Alderaan's shores, and with some he'd barely exchanged a handful of words with since that fateful day. 

But, despite that, they had chosen to follow  _ him _ , to give  _ him  _ the crown they believed he deserved. 

_ What have you done for Alderaan to deserve to rule it?  _

Lady Rey's words came back to him, a reproachful echo that reached into the deepest corners of his mind. 

Her words had stung then. But now, as he took in the sheer number of people who'd followed him purely because of the house he hailed from, he wondered if there was a kernel of truth to her statement. 

“She is surely hoping to hold us off until the first snow falls,” Paige added. “Indeed, it is the best strategy she can hope for. Her army, though almost non-existent, is built for harsh weather, and Takodana will be even more difficult to siege under those conditions.”

_ You were brought up as a mere figurehead, a puppet they can use to quench their thirst for revenge and regain a plot of land.  _

She continued to haunt him. How many of these people had followed him for his own accomplishments, and not to fulfil their own ambitions? 

All his life he was raised with one purpose in mind, one clear goal that he had to obtain at all costs.

A crown he had to win. Or die.

“We cannot wait that long,” Finn said, fixing him with a determined look. “To be away from Coruscant when we’ve only just regained the kingdom is too great a risk. The people need their king.”

Clenching his jaw, Ben perused the map anew, eyes scanning Takodana’s high walls and imposing towers, its deep moat and long drawbridge. Lady Rey’s archers had littered the battlements, weapons drawn in preparation during the entirety of their parley. Her father would have had him executed on sight, breaking every rule of war known to man - just as her grandfather had dishonored his house when he’d slain Ben’s family under his own roof.

His gaze lingered on the largest and tallest tower, a circular structure with arched windows. 

Unlike her grandfather, she’d behaved with honor and dignity.

And he had spurned her. 

He looked up, his heart pounding so hard he feared the rest would hear it. 

“I wish to see her again.”

If he touched his cheek, he was certain he could still feel the heat of her palm across his skin. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the pain in her gaze and the tears that streaked her stunning face.

As his hold on the armrest loosened, he recalled how she’d been yanked away with a bruising grip.

"We will not attack," he announced, glancing back at his council with a firm look. "Not yet." 

  
  


~*~

  
  


Cries of disbelief filled the great tent, but Ben paid them no mind. He dismissed his council with a wave, sending a messenger to Takodana with his request for a second parley. 

He dismissed them all…except for one.

As his advisors trickled out of the great tent, an elderly figure clad in grey armor and a blue surcoat stayed behind.

“Lord Kenobi,” he acknowledged the man, gesturing for him to take a seat at the table. “I wish to speak with you in private.”

The man’s brows arched up, but he took the offered seat, hands resting on the edge of the wooden surface.

“I was wondering when we would have this conversation,” he replied in a calm voice, one that instantly reminded Ben of Lady Rey’s demeanor.

Stroking his chin, Ben took in Lord Kenobi’s knowing expression. “I have not even told you what I wish to talk about.”

He shrugged in response. “You don’t have to tell me, Your Grace. I already know you wish to speak to me about my granddaughter.”

Tugging at his collar, Ben regarded the older lord with widened eyes, a reaction he wished he had been more adept at masking.

“You don’t know what to make of her,” Lord Kenobi continued. “What to think of her.”

With a sigh, Ben leaned back in his seat. “Is it that obvious?”

He was rewarded with a light-hearted chuckle. “Oh, to be young,” the lord mused, a wistful look etched on his face. 

“I am not in love with her,” Ben protested, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. “I did not sail for thousands of miles and triumph in the bloodiest battle in Alderaan’s history to fall victim to my enemy’s charms.”

Lord Kenobi tilted his head. “Her  _ charms _ ?”

“You shouldn’t mock me,” Ben threatened in a low voice, his face heating up as he spoke.

“I was simply making an observation,” he replied in a matter of fact tone. “Most of the lords and ladies who joined you during this parley had never laid eyes on her before.” A brief pause followed as Lord Kenobi glanced down before he spoke again. “Myself included.” 

Frowning, Ben regarded the old lord, taking in the hesitance embedded into his admission. He tried not to think about why a man who lived only a short ride away from Takodana had never seen his granddaughter. However, curiosity gnawed at him for reasons he could not comprehend.

“Is that why you joined my cause?” Ben asked, eyes narrowed. “To see your granddaughter?”

A ghost of a smile appeared on the old man’s face. “When your army arrived at my gates, you never thought to ask me why I’d joined your cause. You accepted my allegiance, no questions asked.”

Ben shifted in his seat. “I did.”

He remembered the first glimpse he’d caught of Mandalore as he’d advanced at the head of the army. It was a massive stronghold, not unlike Takodana, with wide arched windows and rounded towers surrounded by a forest of tall and majestic oaks. However, upon Ben's arrival, Lord Kenobi had opened the gates and a small host of knights had ridden out to greet him, clutching the blue and green banners of House Skywalker, two swords locked together in fight with sapphires and emeralds embedded in their pommels. 

When the old man had pledged himself to House Skywalker anew, instead of the granddaughter who lived but a day’s ride away, how could Ben not believe that he was in the right? 

It was not every day that one forsook their flesh and blood for water. 

“You swore loyalty to me over your own family.”

“And herein lies your first lesson,” Lord Kenobi spoke with a serene gaze.

Ben’s jaw clenched. “My first lesson?” he asked as he stroked his chin. “In what?”

“Ruling,” the lord replied with a smile. “Do not assume all your enemies are always in the wrong.”

He straightened his back. “Are you suggesting my claim is not rightful?”

“My joining you isn’t a slight on my granddaughter’s character or cause. If she believes herself to be queen, she must have a good reason to think so. She  _ is _ her father’s only heir.”

“The granddaughter of the man who usurped my family and stole  _ my _ throne.”

“The daughter of the man who has ruled Alderaan for years following the demise of his own father,” Lord Kenobi countered with a steady voice. “The law of succession obeyed to the letter, despite the inauspicious start of House Palpatine as rulers of Alderaan.” 

It was unnerving how much he sounded like his granddaughter. The same stoic look and calm tone which gave no glimpse into their inner turmoil.

Taking a deep breath, Ben continued. “You speak as if you support them. As if you too did not suffer under their rule.”

“Your difficulties should not hinder you in understanding your enemy’s motives,” he spoke with the same gentle voice. “If you understand why she refuses to surrender, the more chances you have of uncovering what would make her join your cause.”

“Shouldn’t my claim be enough? My family?”

Lord Kenobi drummed his fingers on the edge of the table before he resumed. “For some that might be enough,” he said with a nod. “For others, revenge might be the most appealing factor.”

As he listened, Ben’s mind flashed to Poe and Finn, as well as the other men and women who had sailed with him to Alderaan, their intent clear and their determination unwavering. 

“You are thinking of your advisors, are you not?” Lord Kenobi asked with a knowing smile. “Revenge is a powerful thing–”

“They have suffered,” Ben said, memories of failed assassinations and dead parents flooding his mind. “They have good reasons to avenge the ones they’ve lost.”

Nodding, Lord Kenobi leaned forward in his seat. “Of course. But revenge is as powerful as it is blinding. And empty.”

Unbidden, an image from the battlefield came back to him. Clenching his fist, Ben recalled as he’d stood above the lifeless body of his enemy, waiting in vain for peace to wash over him.

“Revenge is so blinding, that your advisors will never admit to the mistakes you’ve made today,” the old lord said, giving him a look as if to dare challenge his assertion. “They will see the kingdom bleed if it means their thirst will be satisfied. Through you they will seek to achieve it all.”

_ Puppet… _

He brushed her insult away. He wanted to ask what mistakes he’d made, but in his heart he knew already, the parley lost from the moment she emerged in her white dress and veil, achingly beautiful and pure.

_ I lost the war the moment she walked through those gates. _

He despised her. He admired her.

She was everything he was not. Everything he wished to be.

And yet, the crown was his by right.

“I…I have to see her again,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Gritting his teeth, Ben recalled the man who had so cruelly yanked Rey away from him, the gesture so harsh she’d cried out in pain. A strange protective surge had washed over him them, one that he struggled to contain even now, lowering his eyes to the ground in hiding. As he'd glimpsed her calm demeanor and quiet passion, it puzzled him why Lady Rey would welcome such a man into her inner circle.

“I suspect you’ll see her,” the old man assured him, interrupting his musings. “When she decides to..”

“Are you saying that my claim is not enough for her to show herself to me again?” His voice trembled. “Not even  _ that _ ?” 

“Some people do not fit into any category we’ve assigned them to,” came Lord Kenobi’s reply. “It seems my granddaughter does not care about the legacy of a family she’s never met, and holds no desire for an act of vengeance that will never be sated.”

Ben let out a deep sigh. In his eyes, the old man was talking in circles, the meaning behind his words frustratingly clouded. 

“You’ve never seen your granddaughter until a few hours ago, and now you speak as if you’ve known her all your life.” With a narrowed gaze, he continued. “Pray tell me, what does she want? What will it take for me to get her to submit?”

“She will never submit to you,” Lord Kenobi replied, the corners of his mouth quirking slightly. “I don’t know her well, it is true, but from your parley earlier today, I can tell you that much.”

“Then…then she will die," Ben said, and as soon as the words left his lips he knew them to be lies. "As…all my enemies did.”

The old man shook his head. “You will never kill her, ” he spoke in a patient tone. “You may be angry and hurt, but you are not cruel. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You would protect her then? Forgo your oaths and loyalty." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ben continued. "Why join my cause if you intend to betray me?" 

"Is that what you think?“ he asked in response, eyes crinkling with amusement.

Ben gritted his teeth. "I could have you executed for treason.”

“You are the king. ” Lord Kenobi shrugged, as if his life had never been threatened, his loyalty never questioned. “You may do what you please, but that will never give you what you truly want.”

“What do you know of my wants?” Ben asked, tilting his chin up in challenge. “I’ve claimed the throne, and only one castle lies between me and my reign.”

“I know more than you do at present,” came the old man's reply, his calm demeanor unaltered. “You want to be king and crush all your enemies with the swing of a sword, that much is certain, but how much of that desire is truly yours, and how much of it is what others want for you and for themselves?” 

He leaned forward in his seat, hands resting against the armrest. “Beyond the crowns and violence and glory, what do you truly want, Ben?”

“You wish for me to give up? To run back to Tatooine with my tail between my legs?” Shaking his head, he leaned forward in his seat. “After everything I’ve worked for and sacrificed?”

"Did I say that?" Kenobi mused with half a smile, his tone so similar to that of his granddaughter.

As if he were testing him. 

For what, Ben could not possibly imagine. 

“People died to bring me where I am, Lord Kenobi. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t honor their wishes?" As he exhaled, his lower lip trembled. "What kind of king would I be if I turned my back against the people who have suffered under those tyrants?” 

"The tyrants who are now dead," Lord Kenobi pointed out. 

With a frown, Ben shook his head. “Kingship is not desire. It is duty. And I will do my duty no matter the cost.”

“And so will she.”

Ben leaned back in his seat, his hands settling limply in his lap.

“Do not assume all your enemies are always in the wrong,” Lord Kenobi repeated in a patient voice. “Try and look at the world through her eyes, if only for a moment. Perhaps if you understand her, you can also understand yourself. And then you will do what is right.”

Standing up, the old man gave him a nod. "And with that I must leave you, Your Grace," he said. "These old bones are not what they used to be." 

“Wait,” Ben called out, watching as Lord Kenobi turned around in front of the tent's entrance. He took a deep breath, gaze hovering just behind the man's retreating figure, almost cloaked by the darkness outside. “How will I know what is right?”

“Oh,” Kenobi exclaimed, tilting his head to the side, his cheek barely visible. “That is something you will have to find out. I may be old, Your Grace, but I am not all-knowing.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


The old man spoke in circles and riddles. 

Having been surrounded by people whose intent was always clear, to be confronted with such a sight was jarring. 

As Ben sat in his chair, his hands went up to touch the crown of rubies he’d retaken from his enemies. Holding the thin gold band in his hands, he circled the jewels with his thumb. It had been his grandfather’s crown once, matching the one he’d been told his grandmother had worn - the same band of sapphires which now adorned Lady Rey’s head. 

“No,” he spoke, voice lowered, attempting to push aside all distractions.

_ I cannot think of her,  _ his mind screamed, yet the thoughts of her quiet strength and fury persisted. 

His entire life had been spent in careful preparation to claim his birthright from those who had stolen it with treason and cruelty. And all it had taken was a vision in white, cruelly seized away from him, to threaten everything he’d worked for.

He placed the crown on the table, the golden band shining as it rested on the map, right above Takodana’s highest tower.

"What should I do?“ he asked himself, letting out a deep breath. 

Not a day had gone by without the careful lessons he’d received from House Organa and the other families who had joined them in exile. So many lives had been lost to protect him, and he owed it to them to remain resolute.

Unlike Lord Kenobi, they all spoke plainly, their goals and intentions clear. 

It was much easier when everyone told him exactly what he needed to do.

“The messenger has arrived,” a low voice interrupted his thoughts.

Looking up, Ben saw Poe Dameron linger by the entrance.

With a swift gesture, Ben invited him inside. “What did she say? She will see me tomorrow?”

Poe regarded him with a puzzled look, his mouth a grim line. “Next week.”

Leaning back in his seat, Ben sighed with impatience.

“What is going on with you?” Poe asked, occupying the seat Lord Kenobi had just vacated.

“I don’t understand.”

"I thought you knew what we had to do. Why we came here for…" 

Raking a hand through his hair, Ben sighed again. "I know what my purpose is." 

Poe Dameron crooked an eyebrow. "Do you? I thought you did before  _ she _ walked through those gates. Is a pretty face enough to make you forget your duty?“

_ She is not just a pretty face. She is much more than that.  _ The words came easily to him, yet he said nothing, too stunned by the silent admission. And beneath it all, an image of a stoic monarch who revealed nothing to the world lingered at the back of his mind. 

"I know my duty very well," he said instead. "I still believe my cause is just." 

After the momentous victory on the field of battle, Finn had told him that the news would spread throughout the kingdom. And, as more and more families had joined his side, Ben’s certainty in his cause only strengthened. 

How could it not, Ben pondered, when every day a new ally kneeled before him with relief and supplication, revealing the horrors behind the reign of House Palpatine? 

Poe tilted his head, as if he were measuring the statement. "Prove it then." 

"I have nothing to prove to you." Ben's jaw clenched. "You should know that more than everyone after what our families endured." 

"Do the families who've only just joined our cause know?“ Poe challenged him. "Do you think they can understand your sudden hesitance after we've lured them with the promise of blood and war?“

He gritted his teeth. “The kingdom has bled enough." 

"Not nearly," Poe retorted as he stood up. "It will never bleed enough unless House Palpatine is gone from this world." 

_ You will have me punish her for her father's mistakes.  _ The words stood on the tip of his tongue, but one look at Poe's wild demeanor was enough to stifle his defence. 

That, and the sudden realization that he was about to defend Lady Rey of the same accusations and beliefs he once held. 

_ Once…  _

Raking a hand through his hair once more, Ben stood up. Willing those thoughts away, he focused on the task at hand, the newfound conflict between the promises he'd made and the undeniable realization that maybe blood and war were not the only ways to succeed. 

"We will set up a blockade," Ben spoke at last his gaze fixed on Poe's frown. "Cut off their chain of supply and intercept any messages that might reach them. By the time Lady Rey and I speak again, her flock of rebels will be more amenable to an agreement." 

He rested his palms on the map, leaning against the wooden surface it stood on for support. "I find that I wish to take this stronghold as I did the last dozen castles before I arrived here. With no bloodshed."

Poe gave him a look of clear disbelief, but Ben continued, unwilling to continue this particular discussion. He could not tell if this was what Lord Kenobi had meant, but Ben surmised his own judgement as king was as good as any. 

If his advisors could make decisions that shaped the world, why couldn't he as well? 

He was the king. Was he not?

"There is another matter that we need to discuss," he heard Poe say. 

Repressing a sigh, Ben turned to face him. "What?“

"Your marriage." 

  
  


\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. I'd love to hear from you if you did; your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated. :) I'm going on vacation in a few hours, so I'll see you when I return. I have my phone with me, so hopefully I can get some writing done while I'm gone. See you xx


	5. Survival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She truly was alone, with nobody to rely on but herself. As the clouds outside gathered further, the wind picked up, and she realized she’d never really had anyone by her side to begin with. For a second, her thoughts strayed to the man outside, the would be monarch with the gentle and pained eyes who wished to see her, and wondered if he too felt as alone and trapped as she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience and support! I hope you're still reading this. Thank you to @LoveofEscapism for beta-ing.

He had cut off her supply chain.

As Rey walked along the narrow corridor which led to the war room, the hem of her black dress trailed behind her, the heavy fabric not unlike the new burden which weighed heavily on her mind. She reached her destination far quicker than she would have liked, but she knew well enough that a good monarch never postponed a pressing matter.

And she wished to be _good_. If she could not be loved, she could at least be that.

Standing in front of a tall oak door, she vaguely registered the outraged voices of her advisors from beyond, discussing the most recent developments, as if the usurper had committed an unexpected crime.

_Only a fool would dare think such a thing_ , the thought echoed in her mind as her lips curled up in a wry smile. The Skywalker heir had done exactly what was expected of him, exactly what she would have done had she been in his position – sieging a stronghold whose owner refused to yield. In fact, had she not glimpsed the softness concealed in his gaze just last week, she would have expected him to be much more efficient and determined. 

Much crueler. 

_But he isn’t cruel. Not towards you._

Her cheeks bloomed a dusty shade of pink as she looked down, lest her ladies in waiting catch a glimpse of her countenance. The memory of his outraged look when Lord Plutt had forcefully whisked her away was still imprinted in her mind, as was the arrival of a stuttering messenger with the request for another parley just a few hours after the fact – claiming that his king _insisted_ upon seeing her again, which caused Rey to feel much excitement, despite what she believed was clearly a political concern on his part. 

She occupied his thoughts – of that Rey was certain. How could she not, when she stood in his way, denying him the right to rule over the entirety of Alderaan? 

Yet, in the dead of night, as she tossed and turned in her bed unable to sleep, her mind conjured images of a pair of plump lips dancing across her shoulder blades and wondered if, beneath the veneer of anger and sorrow he displayed, lay something deeper.

“Are you unwell?” Rose’s voice echoed behind her.

Suppressing a sigh, Rey turned around to face her ladies in waiting, both clad in matching blue and green and dresses that eerily resembled the colors of the Slywalker banner, so different from the bleeding black star which decorated the battlements of House Palpatine. 

A sigil that only wrought death and decay. 

For the briefest of seconds, a stray thought made its way inside her mind, spreading despair and deceit. She brushed it aside, however, taking in Kaydel’s concerned gaze and Rose’s troubled demeanor.

“Are you nervous about seeing him again today?” Kaydel asked, fingers intertwined in front of her stomach.

From the moment Rey had awakened, a sheen of perspiration coated her forehead as she recalled the snippets of a dream so sweet she knew it would never come to pass, the meeting was all she could think about. Knowing that he was _so_ desperate to see her again had caused Rey to delay their parlay as much as she could, but, as the days went by, she wondered if she had caused herself more harm than good – for the anticipation would surely be the death of her.

Schooling her features into a veneer of tranquility, she shook her head. “Never. If anything, I am impatient to get on with it.”

Rose gave her a reluctant look, her gaze shifting from side to side before she spoke. “He fancies you, you know. Your advisors might be in denial about it, but a woman knows better.”

Her heart fluttered, and for a second, Rey looked downward, taking in Rose’s words, basking, if only for a brief moment, in a fantasy where they were not two enemies divided by a feud that stretched across generations.

_Impossible._

“I can’t imagine anything worse than the affection of a Skywalker,” she replied, despite the blush which threatened to deepen. “It would be beneath us both.”

“It would not be so bad,” Rose insisted, looking at Kydel with a reassuring glance. “If he liked Rey well enough to marry her, wouldn’t that make everything much easier?”

Kydel tilted her head, eyebrows narrowed in contemplation. “It certainly would. If, of course, his advisors allow it.”

Swallowing deeply, Rey tried not to think of the lords and ladies who had joined his cause - who had followed him to the gates of Takodana and glanced at her with fury and disgust. 

“He is king,” Rose continued, as if the obstacle Kydel had described was a mere nuisance instead of something insurmountable. 

_King…_

Rey fixed her with a sharp look. “Is he now?” She adjusted her crown, the sapphires gleaming brightly in the daylight that seeped through the window. “I thought Alderaan only knew one monarch.”

Her pride rankled, and everything she had endured to reach this point in her life came back to her all at once - the humiliation she’d braved through under her father’s thumb, the isolation and fear that he would one day dispose of her once he obtained his prized male heir.

The thoughts of deceit returned. If they failed her, after all they had endured together, Rey was certain she could not bear it.

“He has a claim, you cannot deny it,” Kaydel said, biting her lower lip.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Rey fisted her red skirt - blood in the form of fabric. “A claim that _you_ acknowledge?”

“No,” Rose intervened, but beneath the seemingly calm demeanor, Rey knew something else lay.

_Fear._

Her father would have been proud, she knew. Her grandfather also. To see even those who had spent a lifetime by her side cower in her presence. 

For a short minute, she succumbed to it - the heady temptation represented by the knowledge that she could bend everyone to her will and assume the authority she’d always desired. This dark and terrible impulse that ultimately resulted in her freedom and prevented her death.

“When your sister yields, I will remember your loyalty,” Rey said, watching as Rose’s eyes widened with understanding. She glanced at Kydel, taking in her guarded expression, knowing that she too had family amongst the enemy ranks. “Betray me, and I will show you no mercy, as I am certain _your king_ does with those who forsake him as well.”

Turning around, she gripped the doorknob, listening as the sounds inside the war room died. “I am and will always be the Queen of Alderaan,” she murmured, willing the tears that pricked at her eyes to cease.

~*~ 

The meeting with her advisors had gone as all the other ones before had, with Lord Plutt and the lot of them giving pieces of advice that were neither prudent nor wanted. When it was all over, she dismissed them with a wave claiming to need some time to herself before the second parley.

As Rey looked outside the window from her seat, taking in the ominous grey clouds gathering above, she prayed for the rain to delay its arrival. Glancing out into the distance, she saw the numerous tents planted outside Takodana’s gates, as well as the movement of infantry and archers in preparation for the meeting like busy ants unified by a single purpose. From her vantage point, she could not glimpse _him_ \- the distance was far too great for that - but a part of her believed that she would be able to overcome such a difficulty. His broad frame and dark windswept hair were difficult to miss - a towering presence amongst the hoards of followers and troops.

“There is a pressing matter which we must discuss,” she heard Lord Plutt’s voice behind her, masking his irritation with a gruff tone.

Looking over her shoulder, she watched as he took a chair and placed it nearby, unwilling to wait for her to grant him permission for an audience. He sat down, hands placed on his knees.

“What is it?” she asked, suppressing an impatient sigh as she straightened her back.

He gave her a sharp look, as if he expected her to already know. “Your impending marriage.”

Shooting him a perplexed look, she let her palms rest in her lap. “My impending marriage?” she asked, an amused edge to her tone. “I wasn’t aware that I had received a marriage proposal, or accepted one.”

“Surely you know that you must be married to further House Palpatine’s line.” His words were urgent, and the greed beneath his gaze left no doubt as to his aspirations.

Letting out a deep sigh, she shifted in her seat, discomfort gripping her like a beast with sharp claws. “I am aware of many things, my lord. A Queen’s duty is to her people, first and foremost.”

“And the people will demand that you marry,” he pressed on, leaning forward with a sneer, as if he dared her to contradict the inevitable.

Bile rose to her throat at the thought of letting Lord Plutt lay a single finger on her. The dreams of freedom she’d thought of not too long ago today came back to her, and with them the realization that her title offered no such luxuries, trapped as she was behind Takodana’s walls, surrounded by enemies from outside and within.

She knew she could not outright refuse him now, though the thought of marrying anyone under this roof filled her with disgust and dread. She could only delay her marriage, as she would the siege, wait it out until the snows fell. 

“In due time, of course,” came her measured reply, watching from the corner of her eyes as the troops outside the castle’s gates mobilized. “The people, however, are now demanding that I defend them from the usurper sieging us. Celebrating my nuptials will have to wait until that is resolved, I am afraid.”

Lord Plutt gritted his teeth, yet she could see the temporary resignation imprinted in his stare. She had to tread carefully, she knew well. 

As the day progressed, she became more and more aware of just how alone she truly was - the lords surrounding her loyal to the illusion of a cruel and bloodthirsty legacy. If the Skywalker heir offered them advantageous terms of surrender, Rey knew they would sell her out - betray her at the mere mention of obtaining favor with the ruling house. 

Even her ladies in waiting would flock to House Skywalker’s cause if given the chance. Rose - her long-suffering companion - with her divided loyalties, would surely yearn to be reunited with the sister she thought lost. And Kaydel, whose family had waited to switch sides when victory was all but assured, would follow suit.

Even her own blood had forsaken her.

“We have deserters in our ranks,” Lord Plutt spoke again, changing the subject though she could see that he had saved the revelation as the way to ingratiate himself further - to show her that he was invaluable. “Two soldiers were captured and imprisoned after deserting their post.”

Lowering her head, Rey stared at her lap, fingers weakly fiddling with her dress. She should have known this would come - outnumbered as her side was with almost no chance of victory. With odds such as those, the news came as no surprise, but it hurt her nonetheless, and duty weighed heavily on her shoulders anew. 

“We will schedule their execution for tomorrow morning. Make it a public one, so that everyone in this stronghold can see the price of treason.” 

She truly was alone, with nobody to rely on but herself. As the clouds outside gathered further, the wind picked up, and she realized she’d never really had anyone by her side to begin with. For a second, her thoughts strayed to the man outside, the would be monarch with the gentle and pained eyes who wished to see her, and wondered if he too felt as alone and trapped as she did. 

~*~

When Rey emerged from the stronghold, she saw that the Skywalker heir was flanked by two advisers. Though shorter than him, the two men regarded their king with weary looks, as if they knew he’d taken a great risk to come face her with fewer numbers. 

Indeed, the large number of lords and ladies from the previous parley had not joined him this time around. He still had a host of infantry and archers readily available for his protection, but the words exchanged during this meeting would be witnessed only by a handful of people.

Standing at the gate, Rey weighed her options. This time around, she’d forsaken the all white attire from the previous encounter, opting for a simple black gown that highlighted the crown of sapphires which adorned her head. Her hair was bound in an uncomplicated braid that reached her waist, aware that the gust of wind might prove hazardous if she left her curls loose. 

As she regarded the tall man standing before her, she contained the smile that threatened to form upon seeing how her attire matched his own, bringing to her attention the crown of rubies which he wore and she recognized as having belonged to her father and grandfather.

She should have been appalled, she knew, upon glimpsing him with the object that symbolized her family’s rise to power. Yet, as the wind blew through his inky hair, and his broad shoulders loosened when he looked into her eyes, she found herself unable to stifle the blush that bloomed across the apples of her cheeks.

_It is merely the wind_ , she told herself, as she looked over her shoulder to face her advisers.

“You may go back inside,” she told them. “My ladies in waiting shall accompany me.”

Lord Plutt opened his mouth to protest, but she gestured to a group of soldiers to do her bidding. From the corner of her eyes, she saw as Rose and Kaydel’s eyes widened, surprised by the decision.

With a gentle shrug, Rey turned around, noticing, to her surprise, that the would be king’s eyes had never left her. Instead, he raked his gaze over her figure, but in a way that felt strangely empowering, as if he admired her - though she could not imagine why that would be the case. 

_Perhaps_ , she reasoned as she made her first step across the drawbridge, _the past seven days had done much to temper his impulses_. He was quick to anger and easily offended, she could tell, due to the years spent in exile, away from the throne he felt belonged to him only. 

But she knew those days were not enough to temper the ambitions which had been instilled in him from birth. The same ambitions that fueled her as well.

It was difficult not to admire his tenacity.

“Lady Rey,” he acknowledged her when she approached, flanked by her ladies in waiting, his tone oddly polite, though he could have learned from their previous parley not to provoke her.

Still, his eyes never left her own. His stare was so different from Plutt’s, who she could see only viewed her as a means to an end - a tool he could use to rise to power. 

What the usurper viewed her as, she could not tell.

“My lord,” she replied, unable to stop her gaze from scanning his frame, telling herself she was merely admiring the fine gold embroidery which adorned the hem of his sleeves, small swirls visible only from up close.

His large hands were gloved in fine leather, and he clenched them into fists as he began to speak.

“You’ve kept me waiting,” he said, his tone strangely offended, as if her refusal to see him immediately had caused him great anguish.

Lifting her chin up, she regarded him with a serene expression. “I did.”

“Why?”

_To survive. To last until the first winter snow. To erase your concerned gaze from my memory, though I dreamed of it every night since._

“I thought you needed some time for reflection,” she replied, instead. “To remember that you are fighting for a lost cause, and to think of all the innocents you’ve slaughtered on the field of battle.”

If she had offended him, he showed no signs, regarding her with a pensive look. “I am a killer, just as much as you are, my lady,” he answered with a steady voice. “How many men have you had executed for crimes after they were found guilty? How many men from your garrison will fall on their swords when you command it?”

For a second, she entertained the possibility that he might know what had happened in her camp - of the people who had shown no hesitation to abandon her. But he displayed no such awareness and, knowing him as she did now, with his propensity to speak his mind while every emotion lay embedded in his features, Rey was certain he would have mentioned it. 

“If I am a killer, then so are you,” he added, his eyes rounded in such a way that he appeared even younger than his actual age of nine and twenty. “A different sort, but a killer nonetheless. We are very much alike, you and I - two murderous exiles who cling to power.”

Heartbeat pounding in her ear, she willed herself to remain unmoved by his assertion. “Have you come here to compare yourself to me so that you might assuage your guilty conscience?”

“I have come to discuss your terms of surrender, Lady Rey,” he retorted, looking at her as if the people around them did not exist. “As you well know, Takodana is surrounded, and your supply lines and means of communication have all been cut off. Your army is weak and dwindling, and you and the people who have sought shelter here have only what you could harvest before my arrival to live off of.”

Her lips curled up into a smile. “We’ve harvested enough to last us for a very long time, my lord. Indeed, food is of no concern to us.”

“But disease surely is,” he prompted, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself, causing her eyebrows to arch curiously. “You are all trapped between these walls, and any ailment could spread and prove fatal. Indeed, to avoid any potential suffering, it would be in your best interest to surrender now.”

“Will you do the spreading yourself?” she could not help but ask, having read much about what happened during sieges in anticipation. “I assume we shall have to prepare ourselves for when you will inevitably catapult some dead and rotten being to spread disease amongst us all.”

He swallowed heavily, and in that moment she knew for certain he would do no such thing. A tiny flutter bloomed in her chest, faced as she was once more with another proof of his lack of cruelty.

And strategy. For she was certain someone in his council with a shard of knowledge about combat and sieges would have suggested it. Or at least begged him to attack immediately. 

“If you surrender, I will be merciful,” he said, wisely ignoring her question. “The Kingdom of Alderaan has known many hardships over the years, and as fall seeps into winter, the people wish for peace and to enjoy the fruits of their harvest. Surely, you are not determined to inflict more suffering upon them.”

Her gaze shifted at that, focusing on the two men who accompanied him. “I don’t believe we have been introduced, my lords,” she said, Ben’s words echoing in her mind unpleasantly. 

To cause her people suffering was a foreign act to her, one more akin to what her father had done before, and it rankled to once more remind her that this exiled prince viewed her through such an unfortunate familial tie. 

“I know your sigils, but it would be very lovely to put a name to the banner,” Rey continued, watching as the usurper’s advisers flinched like two boys caught doing something they were not supposed to be doing.

_No,_ she amended once she noticed what exactly they had been doing. 

They had flinched, like two men caught gazing upon the countenances of her ladies in waiting. 

With the tail of her eye, she watched as Rose and Kaydel’s cheeks blushed a deep shade of pink.

_Interesting._

“Did you see something you liked, my lords?” she inquired, mock curiosity etched in her voice. 

The usurper… _no_ , she corrected herself, _Lord Solo_ elbowed them both, and her smirk widened as the two men stumbled slightly. 

“You have the pleasure, I suppose, of meeting my closest advisers,” he drawled. “Lord Poe Dameron and Lord Finn Calrissian.”

They both nodded, clearly at a loss for words until Lord Finn spoke at least. “I have heard many things about the...beautiful interiors of Tadokana,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Interiors which we aim to conquer,” Poe Dameron continued, fixing his companion with a sharp look.

Rey’s lips quirked. 

Takodana was many things. Impregnable, to start with, having never been conquered since her ancestors built it many generations ago. Abnormally large, for she was certain the man who’d erected it had been eager to make up for some endowments which he undoubtedly lacked.

But beautiful was certainly out of the question.

Nonetheless, she played along for a brief moment, a part of her eager to show a side of herself that she’d never displayed before. 

“Indeed, Takodana is a beautiful stronghold with stunning chambers,” she said, watching as Rose shot her an incredulous look. “Its inhabitants moreso,” she added, relishing in the manner in which the two men shifted uncomfortably, arms behind their heavy armors. “The female half, at least. The men are not that impressive.”

From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed as Ben let out a soft chuckle, and a strange flutter nestled itself in her lower belly at the pleasant sound.

But, with a small sigh, she willed herself to return to the task at hand, unwilling to succumb to distractions and easy charms. 

For all she knew, this sudden interest in her ladies in waiting could very well be a ploy to lure the people closest to her away, to make her vulnerable by extracting information from them - for Rey was aware, in her heart of hearts, that, for all the threats she made, she could not bring herself to harm Rose and Kaydel in any way.

And, as she had seen earlier today, it would not take much for them to leave her side regardless of the years they had relied upon each other to survive.

“Either way,” Rey continued, straightening her back as the wind around her howled. “You will never have the privilege of glimpsing Takodana’s interiors, as we will not surrender. Indeed, not even the threat of hunger and disease can dissuade us.”

“You will let your pride stand in the way of their survival?” Lord Solo asked, gesturing at the people strewn across the battlements, poorly equipped archers and peasants who had never picked up a weapon in their lives.

A shiver raked her figure and, as the first sounds of thunder echoed from above, Rey told herself the cold was to blame.

“I care very much about our survival,” she said, wrapping her arms around her frame. “It is the only thing I have left to hope for besides maintaining a semblance of my dignity and pride.”

The words poured out of her before she could stop herself, and she could sense as Rose and Kaydel looked at her with surprise - perhaps, Rey surmised, marvelling that she had been so candid in front of this man, when all her life she’d buried everything away. 

As his gaze softened even further, she too marveled at how easily she’d opened up to him. A strange flicker of emotion blossomed in his gaze, something akin to that of a person who had found a kindred spirit.

“I assume you understand what I mean,” she said with a low voice, shivering as a gust of wind kissed her face.

Clenching his jaw, Ben looked downwards, unable to glance into her eyes for the first time since she’d stepped through the opened gates to face him. Her own gaze misted, and, as she blinked, she continued to insist the cold air was at fault. 

A drop of rain fell on her shoulder. “I should go inside now.”

Turning away, she gestured with her head for her ladies to follow suit. Her steps felt heavy across the wooden drawbridge, as if someone had slipped bits of lead inside her leather boots.

“Wait,” his voice called out, loud enough to carry so that the witnesses posted along the battlements could hear him.

Standing still, Rey turned around, brushing away a thin lock of hair which had escaped her braid. As she tilted her head, she took in his broad frame, fists clenched by his side anew.

“I will see you again…tomorrow?” he asked, the words part order, part yearning. 

Looking over her shoulder, she watched as a gust of wind ruffled his dark hair. An errant curl landed across his forehead, and her fingers itched to brush it away. 

Another dream to indulge in while she slumbered.

“Perhaps,” she said at last, retreating behind the castle walls.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is still following this story, thank you for taking the time to read the update and for your patience. I hope the chapter was worth the wait. If you liked it, please let me know via comments and kudos. They really encourage me to keep writing. Thanks to loveofescapism for beta-ing.
> 
> As you can see, I've updated the chapter count too, and I'm really excited to share the rest of the story.


	6. Treason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling in love with him was inevitable. Like a wave crashing against the shore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the support and for the patience! I hope this chapter is worth the wait. Thank you to LoveofEscapism for beta-ing :)

She met him again the following day.

And the day after that.

And the day after that one as well, until a fortnight passed and Rey had glimpsed him almost every single day, waiting for her outside the castle gates with his advisors by his side as light gave way to the darker hues of the evening sky.

It was difficult not to admire Lord Solo’s broad shoulders every time she stepped out on the drawbridge, accompanied by her ladies in waiting. Her advisers always remained behind the walls, lest one of them take it upon himself to escort her under the pretense of concern and protection. 

It was even more difficult not to look into his soulful eyes and the way he gazed at her - as if he feared she would disappear from his sight any minute. 

It was hard not to weave a fantasy in which Lord Solo was in love with her and they were not enemies trapped on opposite sides, unable to reach a compromise that would not embarrass them both. For all her appearance of bravery and detachment, Rey knew she did not have much to offer, outnumbered and loathed by a kingdom that wished nothing than the disappearance of the family that had caused them pain. Her followers were few, and they were as trapped as she was, waiting for a winter that would likely be late and brief, if the unyielding sun of autumn served as any indication. 

Rain offered but a brief reprieve.

“Could you tighten my corset, please?” she found herself asking Kaydel before their fourth parley that fortnight, glancing at her reflection in the mirror.

Her hair was bound once more in a simple braid, and the crown of sapphires glittered invitingly in the glass. Behind Rey, stood her bed - the sheets wrinkled from having tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep without dreaming of the wayward prince who’d assumed control of her every thought. A simple black dress lay on the mattress, and as she observed the soft velvet, Rey was instantly reminded of Lord Solo’s wavy locks, and the way his errant curls seemed to beg for her to card her fingers through them.

She could see Kaydel regard her with a slight smirk, and relief swept over Rey when she opted not to say her thoughts out loud. 

“As you wish,” Kaydel said instead and went to work.

Often times, Rey wondered if anyone else suspected the turmoil that churned inside her, the flush that always threatened to bloom whenever Takodana’s gates opened and she caught a glimpse of _him_ for the first time - always dressed in dark colors, his gloved hands clenched into fists as if he’d been waiting impatiently all day for her to emerge from behind the castle’s walls.

And she imagined that was very much the case, desperate as he was to end the siege before it began in earnest. Determined, Rey was certain, to take it with no bloodshed like the dozen strongholds who’d welcomed him on his sojourn north.

“Do you think his advisers will join him?” Rose spoke from the other side of the room, looking out the window to observe the preparations for the meeting.

“Is there one in particular you are looking forward to seeing?” Rey could not help but ask, gritting her teeth as Kaydel tightened up her corset.

From her vantage point, Rey could see everything through the mirror, and the deep blush that bloomed across Rose’s cheeks had no place to hide. 

“The short one,” Rose proclaimed, tilting her head upward.

Rey let out a chuckle. “They’re both short. You’ll have to be more specific than that.” 

As soon as Kaydel finished lacing her corset, Rey took a deep breath, relieved that she could still manage such a feat. Soon enough, Kaydel helped her into the black velvet dress she’d prepared for the occasion. Despite the richness of the fabric, it was a simple garment, unadorned, with the exception of the small embroidered gold swirls located at the hem of her angel sleeves. The embroidery had been a new addition, the result of Rey feeling a bit _too_ overzealous the night before and deciding that she should take up sewing and stitching anew. 

All the while, she told herself she was not replicating the delicate design of Lord Solo’s tunics.

She turned around to look at Rose. “Just say that Finn Calrissian has caught your eye. There is no need to be vague about it.”

Rose’s eyes widened, and Rey could plainly see that her companion was surprised to see her behave in such an unnaturally candid manner - a more frequent occurrence in the last couple of days. In truth, Rey would have been surprised as well by this development, had Lord Solo’s advisors not been so transparent with their intentions. 

Intentions which, under different circumstances, would not have been threatening.

_If I pretend to be oblivious to it all, perhaps I can uncover more_ , she mused to herself whenever she prepared to speak to her ladies in waiting.

“And you,” Rey continued, her glance shifting to take in Kaydel’s similarly surprised appearance. “You can say Lord Dameron strikes your fancy.”

“I suppose we can,” Rose replied with a shrug. “Though to be fair, they’re both short only when compared to your prince.”

A flutter nestled itself in Rey’s belly. Clearing her throat, she set out to neaten the creases in her dress. “He’s not _my_ prince.”

“He seems quite taken with you,” Kaydel mused. “I suppose that makes him yours.”

Dismissing her words with a gesture, Rey paced towards the door, prepared - if one could consider a refashioned dress sufficient - to face the man who haunted her dreams every night.

_He will never be mine. I have nothing to give him_. The thought was incessant, and with each passing day it seemed to prove more and more accurate, as Rey was constantly faced with soldiers whose resolve weakened, and peasants who lay frightened by the large army amassed just a stone’s throw away. 

All she could do was delay.

“He looks at you as if you’re the most interesting person he’s ever seen,” Rose continued. “As if he’s forgotten he’s supposed to be your enemy.”

For a second, Rey stilled, her hand gripping the doorknob.

It was in moments like this that she missed her mother keenly. This faceless woman she’d neither met nor seen - not even in portraits, for her father had never allowed her likeness to be immortalized, too disappointed in his wife’s failure to provide him with the male heir he sought.

If her mother had been alive, Rey wondered if she would have helped her make sense of it all. Give a name to the strange fluttering that bloomed in her chest and stomach whenever discussions of Lord Solo’s behavior came about. Would her mother know what to say? What advice to give?

She found these conversations to be much more difficult than the political maneuverings she’d grown accustomed to throughout her exile.

“I don’t think he will ever forget who I am,” Rey said, opening the door. “Nor should he. Our past is like a shadow; it will always follow us no matter how much we try to rise above it.”

  


~*~

  
  


“I like your dress,” Lord Solo said upon meeting her that day. The autumn sun shone brightly, nary a cloud tainting the sky with the promise of rain.

His gaze travelled across her frame in a way that resembled simple appreciation. Other men might have given her a lecherous or a greedy look, but Lord Solo was frank in his appreciation, and it was that quality that made Rey tug at her collar slightly, a wave of heat raking her frame.

She told herself the sun was to blame, the rays far too strong for this time of year. And she had worn black...and velvet.

“That is very nice of you to say, but your appreciation for my garments will not be enough to secure my surrender.”

“I wasn’t expecting your surrender at all,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips. “I respect you too much to believe that.”

_He respects me_. His words echoed her her mind, and it took everything in her power to temper the sheer excitement that threatened to overtake her. 

“You might be the first person who has told me that,” she could not help but confess, and it was only after the words left her mouth that she remembered others were witnessing their conversation.

From the corner of her eyes, she watched as his advisors regarded her with slack jaws.

“Have I said something shocking, my lords?” she asked, knowing it was not wise to let them know she’d uttered something she shouldn’t have. “Either way,” she continued, turning to Lord Solo, “it is very kind of you to say that.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not complimenting you out of kindness,” he replied, and her cheeks instantly reddened. 

There were times in which she wondered if his desire to parley with her was merely a cover for something else, something she could only dare to dream.

But then she remembered his position, and the people who had pledged to follow him with their armies. She remembered the expectations that were placed upon his shoulders and knew her dream was nothing but an illusion.

He was right...this wasn’t kindness. Respecting one’s enemy was always the smart thing to do.

“You are not expecting my surrender, and yet you still insist on coming here,” she said instead. 

His eyes bore into hers. “That is not a kindness either.”

“I know,” came her reply, and Rey’s heart pounded in her chest as she spoke. “Kindness is a luxury neither of us can afford.”

“But I can afford to see you again,” he said, and a muscle under his left eye twitched. “Tomorrow.”

A smile played at her lips, despite her effort to contain it. “I am not going anywhere.”

  


~*~

  


“If you surrender, I promise I will be merciful,” Lord Solo said during yet another parley.

They met again on the drawbridge, dressed in black and flanked by their advisors. 

Under normal circumstances, the parallels would have amused Rey tremendously, but she knew too well that her dignity hung by a thread. 

“I do not doubt that, my lord,” she replied, watching as his hands clenched into impatient fists. 

He was restless, she could plainly see, and it made her wonder if his followers had grown impatient with him in turn, eager for the siege to end. 

Eager for her defeat.

_He_ would be merciful - it was impossible for him to be otherwise. His reaction to Lord Plutt upon their first meeting was still engraved in her mind.

But his followers would not share his compassion. The two advisers who accompanied him like shadows _might_ be swayed, but the others would surely demand that she pay for her family’s sins if she surrendered.

“Your mercy is not a guarantee,” Rey continued, watching as his advisers squared their shoulders, as if prepared to challenge her assertion.

“You would be wise to accept his proposal,” one of them - Lord Dameron to be precise - spoke in a matter of fact tone. 

“Poe...” Lord Solo warned.

His adviser continued undeterred, however. “It is the most you can hope for. Surely you know what your family has done to this kingdom. To the families who have lived under their tyranny.”

Rey’s jaw clenched, her fears confirmed. She wanted to pry for more information, to find out what discussions they had after each parley and who was most adamant to see her fall. But, to voice her questions for all to hear meant exposing her fears and vulnerabilities - and that she could not afford to do.

_If I show them my weaknesses, they will hunt me down like vultures,_ she concluded to herself, gaze tilted upwards as the sun disappeared behind a cloud. _And not even their king’s mercy could stop them._

Taking a deep breath, she replied with a steady voice. “I believe I am capable of making my own decisions, Lord Dameron.”

“You would rather they burn this fortress to the ground and harm the people protecting it?” Finn Calrissian asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Rey lowered her gaze, catching Finn as he shot a concerned look towards Lady Rose. “The decision to burn down castles and kill innocents is not mine to make,” she said. “It is up to your king and how capable he is of controlling his advisers and armies.” She turned to Lord Solo then, her eyes boring into his. “If he is too susceptible to the whims of his followers, then perhaps he should not lay claim to a land that isn’t his.”

“Are you saying once more I am easy to manipulate?” the king in question asked, and she was surprised he was not more affronted by her insinuation. 

Perhaps, if this had been their first meeting, Rey imagined he would have appeared more outraged. He would have huffed and taunted her anew like on the day she’d called him a puppet. But, his newfound calm demeanor and gentle gaze stunned her, and she could not help but wonder if their meetings had caused such a change in him.

It was easy to see that his followers possessed a hold over him that was almost unyielding. It was easy to see his struggle.

If she despised him, she would have let him be. She would have allowed him to wallow in doubt as the great families of Alderaan sunk their teeth into him until there was nothing left of his will.

It would benefit her to sow conflict and strip him of his clarity. To come up with another way in which she could buy enough time for her people and troops. 

To make his own men and women loathe him for his indecisiveness.

But she couldn’t. She cared far too much for him to let that happen.

Wetting her lower lips, Rey continued. “When you owe your life to the same people who are pushing you towards greatness, it is easy to think that you owe them every part of yourself. That you have to do everything in your power to accommodate all their demands, no matter how much they might make you uncomfortable.” 

Her throat felt dry as she spoke, but she brushed her own discomfort aside, determined to resume. “But that is not true. Just because they’ve fed you and clothed you and put a sword in your hand, you are your own person. You still have your judgement and your dreams and wishes that are independent of their own ambitions.”

“Are you saying I should disappoint the same people who are counting on me to bring stability to their homeland?”

“I don’t think you’d be disappointing them,” she replied, the corners of her lips going up. “I think that one of the monarch’s tasks is to find solutions that the majority fails to see, and make them realize that succumbing to their baser instincts is nothing but destructive.” 

He took a deep breath, his lips quirking. “You sound just like your grandfather.”

Her brows furrowed. “I don’t think House Palpatine has ever been keen on aiding their enemies.”

Letting out a soft laugh, Ben stroked his chin. “I meant your other side of the family.”

At the reminder of her mother’s kin, Rey’s mouth parted in surprise, yet the words were lodged in her throat. 

From the moment she’d heard of Lord Kenobi’s betrayal - though it was difficult to call it such when she’d never met the person in question - she wondered about the intentions behind his decision, and just what he was whispering in the young king’s ear.

She wondered if he’d truly forsaken his own blood, and, with one simple sentence, she received her answer.

“You don’t know what you’ve just revealed to me,” she said at last, unable to keep the confession from him. “If I were my father, or his father as a matter of fact, I would have used that information to destroy you.”

“But you’re not,” he stated, his gaze still gentle. “You might share their blood, but you don’t share their values and deeds.”

Tears welled in her eyes as he spoke, and it was with great effort that Rey blinked them away. All she’d ever wanted was to be seen as something other than the scion of House Palpatine, for someone to look beneath the surface and see _her_ , a person removed from her family’s shameful actions. Someone who wished to carve her own place in the world and better the lives of those around her. 

“Will I see you again?” he asked, sparing her of a reply. “Tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

  


~*~

  


Falling in love with him was inevitable. Like a wave crashing against the shore.

She was powerless to stop it, and as she stepped inside the rookery for a few precious moments of privacy, Rey was certain she had never stood a chance in the first place. Their next parley was but an hour away, and even from her isolated location she could hear the preparations beyond the castle’s stone walls, footsoldiers and archers rushing across the courtyard to assume their position. 

Leaning against the door, she took in her surroundings, the caged ravens which were barred from escaping their confines with precious missives, lest the exiled prince’s host catch wind of the happenings inside Takodana - guarded only by a small garrison whose resolve seemed to waver by the day. 

She stared at the winged creatures and saw herself - trapped despite the crown she proudly wore, fighting against the whims and ambitions of her advisors while fending off Lord Plutt’s unwanted advice and aspirations.

It wasn’t difficult to envision a life where she was free of such worries, but to achieve it was easier said than done. Her surrender would never guarantee her safety - not with her family’s enemies eager to see her fall regardless of the promises their king made.

_If he liked Rey well enough to marry her, wouldn’t that make everything much easier?_

Rose’s words remained imprinted in Rey’s mind even now, and she were lying if she hadn’t thought of that possibility countless times. She was in no position to propose such an arrangement, she knew well, and even if she was, Rey doubted he wasn’t already promised to another. To set sail and conquer a kingdom without at least a wife and an heir, was madness enough on Lord Solo’s part, but to abandon his exile with no advantageous betrothal in sight was impossible. His advisers would surely demand that he wed their choice of bride and ensure Alderaan’s stability, while also keen on controlling every aspect of his life.

If she lived to see him wed another, now that she knew her heart and its desires, Rey was certain she could not bear it. His advisers could banish her at the end of the world, conspire to have her imprisoned and executed if they so wished, and even that would be less painful.

The dark thoughts absorbed her so deeply that she barely registered the sudden arrival of a raven with a small scroll tied around his left leg, dark wings flapping impatiently in the daylight.

Blinking away a sudden onslaught of tears, she approached the creature with cautious steps, wondering how this could have happened. She had made sure to block all communication with the outside world, and yet, somehow, this winged messenger had evaded each and every obstacle. 

Unwrapping the scroll was easy enough, and with careful movements she guided the bird to a cage, where it eagerly pecked at a cluster of seeds.

_My father would have killed them,_ she thought as she unwrapped the scroll, knowing full well that she could not bring herself to do such a thing. If the rookery overflowed with ravens, then so be it - she would release the ones that wished to leave with no missives to deliver, and keep those that wouldn’t and care for them as best as she could.

Her hands trembled as she scanned the parchment, and it took every effort to stifle the sob that wrecked her frame.

_R,_

_I count the days until we are reunited once more, but it seems she will not submit just yet. However, let me reveal to you, dear sister, that her refusal is no longer an obstacle, and I assure you that in due time the rightful ruler will once more reign over Alderaan as he should have done so all those years ago. She will be removed...by force, if need be. I remain, as always, loyal to our cause._

_P_

Taking a deep breath, Rey scrolled the thin strip of parchment, tucking it neatly inside her boot. With a heavy heart, she leaned against the stone wall, closing her eyes briefly as she willed herself to concentrate, to not let her impulse take over and demand that she storm the castle immediately in an attempt to punish and imprison.

She couldn't, under any circumstances, behave like her father and grandfather under the watchful eyes of the few soldiers and peasants who still followed her to their deaths.

The letter lay nestled inside her boot, and though the location was not cumbersome, it felt as if she’d been stabbed in the foot with a knife. She recalled how she’d tested Lady Rose’s loyalty not that long ago, threatened by the slip her lady in waiting had made upon referring to Lord Solo as her king..

This…was more than an innocent mistake.

This was not deceit - it had always been the wrong word, she knew deep down, but refused to admit it. 

“This isn’t deceit”, Rey whispered to herself, her throat dry. 

_This is treason._

~*~

  


Despite the fact that she had been expecting it, Lord Solo’s arrival took her by surprise.

The letter tucked inside her boot turned into lead as Rey stepped outside the rookery, walking along the narrow hallways until she reached the inner courtyard.

“His advisers are missing. He is alone,” she heard Lord Plutt say, turning around just as she glimpsed her ladies in waiting rushing to hear the conversation.

Before her trip to the rookery, she could have mistaken their rush for concern. Now, armed by the newfound knowledge she possessed, Rey knew she could not be deceived by their thirst for information.

“Then I shall go alone as well,” she said, looking away from Lady Rose’s furrowed brow, squaring her shoulders in a show of indifference and determination.

“We could kill him,” Lord Plutt continued as if she had not said a word. “Slay him in front of Takodana’s gates and his army. Humiliate them all and bring an end to the madness forever.”

She could say yes, Rey knew too well. The power to end it all now rested in her hands, and Lord Solo had brought himself to her just as he’d done in the previous weeks, brave and vulnerable and filled with trust.

_With trust in me…_ the realization dawned on her, though the root of his trust was now clouded by the sudden arrival of the incriminating letter. 

There was no doubt in Rey’s mind who had penned the note, and on what side they fought. And, even though Lord Solo had not written it, who was to say he could not be swayed while under the influence of so many families that clearly loathed House Palpatine? Even during their last meeting, his struggle had been plain to see.

Lord Plutt cleared his throat. “It is what your father would have done.”

But, a part of her, a hidden part that could be either hope or wishful thinking, yearned for the opposite. 

And another part of her - the heart that fluttered incessantly in her chest - transported Rey to the moment when her prince had looked upon Lord Plutt with disdain for having treated her unkindly.

_I am not my father_.

“I will see him,” she spoke at last, surprised her voice did not tremble. “ _Alone_.”

And, shooting her advisers and ladies in waiting a sharp look, she turned away and ordered for the gates to open.

The small slip of paper crunched under the sole of her foot.

  


~*~

  


“Lady Rey.”

An errant curl fell over his forehead as he spoke.

“My lord,” she nodded, schooling her features in a blank expression, attempting to ignore the strange furrow of his brows upon hearing her cold reply.

Shifting uncomfortably, he stepped forward, meeting her halfway across the drawbridge. “You should call me Ben. Everyone does.”

_Ben_. 

For so long she had agonized over what to call him, dreaming of him in so many ways. And now he delivered the answer, uttered so casually they might as well have been married.

The apples of her cheeks bloomed pink. “Everyone...including your enemy?”

“You haven’t been my enemy for a while now.”

What am I then, she wanted to ask, but the words were lodged in her throat. She feared to say them out loud, for he might call her a friend, and that she could not bear.

Not now that she knew her heart and the person it bled for.

“You are here to discuss my surrender once more,” she said instead, focusing on Ben’s movements as he raked a hand through the front of his hair, careful not to disturb the crown he proudly wore.

“I am here to ask for your advice.”

His words stunned her, and it took Rey a few seconds to gather her composure, neatening the dark fabric of her dress. 

“You should know better than to ask for my advice.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

“Have your advisers proved so disappointing that you are now coming to your enemy for aid?”

“I told you before, Lady Rey,” he continued, a slight smile playing at his lips. “You are not my enemy.”

She shook her head, though she knew well not to insist any further. His gaze darkened, and it seemed as if his determination had strengthened. “What is it that you wish to ask me about?”

“Freedom,” he replied. 

A bitter smile crossed her lips, punctured by the thoughts of ravens locked in cages. 

“There is no such thing,” she said, scanning the soldiers located at some distance behind him that ensured both safety and privacy. The absence of his advisers was noticeable among their ranks. “There is no freedom for you, and certainly no freedom for me.”

“What happened to what you told me yesterday?" He tilted his head. "That I have ambitions independent from those of my own advisers? That I am my own person?”

Tears pricked at her eyes. “I was mistaken.” 

_As I was mistaken by the loyalty of those closest to me_.

“No, you’re not,” he stated, and the certainty of his tone made her glance up until her gaze collided with his own. “We should have the freedom to make our own decisions. I believe that.”

“Then why do you need my advice, if you’re so certain of that now?”

“I don’t want my advisers to dictate my life, and I am frightened that I’ve let this happen for too long to stop it without repercussions.”

“A king is never afraid of anything.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, and she was certain the cool wind was not to blame for it.

“A king is but a human,” Ben retorted, his eyes softening. “As is a queen.”

Shaking her head, Rey looked downwards. 

“You shouldn’t be afraid to show what you feel, my lady,” he said. ”Nobody is perfect.”

“I have to be perfect, otherwise nobody will follow me anywhere,” came her retort before she could stop it. 

In his presence, she knew it was pointless to hide. “Kings can afford to be mad and cruel and stupid for decades before someone decides they’re no longer of value," she added. "A queen does not have that luxury.”

She watched as he bit his lower lip, and from the contemplative expression glimpsed in his eyes, she saw as some kind of understanding dawned on him.

“You shouldn’t be afraid to go against the wishes of your counsel,” she continued. “I am the last person a Sywalker should come to for advice though.”

His eyes locked with hers anew. “Why?”

Breathing heavily, she prevented her tears from falling. “I am a horrible person. I spent years locked in this stronghold, waiting for my father to die. Praying that he would never sire a male heir so that I would one day become queen and have a measure of freedom.” 

The wind outside intensified, and her hair fluttered in like a banner. ”He often thought of disposing of me once he’d achieved his goal. I truly am the last person you should be asking for advice.” 

His mouth opened as if to say something, but she interrupted him with a hand gesture, too overwhelmed to stop herself.

“He married so many women, I lost track. I prayed for him to die without a son, and as my prayers came to pass all his wives died because he claimed they’d failed him. Because my life also meant their death.” 

_And for you to rule in peace, I will have to die. Your advisers will not have it any other way._

“I truly am my father’s daughter, my grandfather’s legacy in flesh and bones," Rey concluded. "You would do right to hate me for it, as your advisers do. As this entire kingdom, regardless of how much I wish to make it thrive.”

Shaking his head, he approached her until she could see they were standing too close for their conversation to be considered a mere parley. If the soldiers around them suspected anything, they did not act upon it. 

“You are not like them,” he said with certainty etched in his tone. “And I don’t hate you. If you are horrible, then so I am.” 

He stood so close, his hand could easily brush against her dress. And a part of Rey yearned for it, even if by chance. 

“I prayed for years in my exile as well,” he confessed. “I dreamt of how easier my life would be if your family died. If _you_ died. Your house extinguished and erased from history.” 

He paused, releasing a shaky breath as his eyes curiously teared up. “I prayed for it all…before I met you.” 

Then, Ben lowered his voice until it was but a whisper carried to her ears by the autumn air. “Rey, I’ve never been happier to have my prayers gone unanswered.”

She pressed her hand over her chest, and her heart pounded wildly against her palm. “I cannot yield.”

“I know,” came his reply, just as the wind stopped howling. “Neither can I.”

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with this story. If you liked this update, please leave a comment and kudos. Your support helps me tremendously. Work should be slowing down a bit, so hopefully I will have more time to write now. :)


	7. Betrothal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YES, THAT IS THE NAME OF THE CHAPTER! YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support. Writing this fic is an absolute joy, and I hope you enjoy this update. Thank you to @Loveofescapism for beta-ing.

"Rey, I need to speak with you." 

As the day drew to a close, Rose came to her first, fiddling with her fingers as she stood in the center of the great hall. 

The lords had retired after dinner, a modest affair weighed heavily by siege and impending doom. No matter how much she prepared for battle, Rey was certain it would never be enough. 

"I am afraid it is quite urgent," Rose insisted, making a tentative step towards her. 

Still raw from the last encounter with the man who occupied her every thought, Rey could only nod. But, at the same time, her mind worked, recalling all the events which had brought her to this lonely and vulnerable state.

_ She wishes to confess _ , Rey thought to herself, taking in the concern evident in Rose's gaze. 

"We will speak in my chamber,'' she replied, watching as Rose let out an almost invisible sigh of relief. 

As they walked towards her quarters, the small sigh remained embedded into Rey's mind and, for the first time in a while she wondered how Rose truly perceived her. Was she, even to the people who'd suffered alongside her for a decade, the monster her father was? His blood ran through her veins just as her grandfather's did. Were they all truly unable to look beyond a name, a sigil…a bloodline?

_ I am more than those who came before me,  _ Rey mused as her bedchamber's door came into view.  _ Am I not? _

She could not ponder for much longer, sadly, as they both entered the room...only to find Kaydel seated on one of the chairs near the fireplace, a guilty expression etched on her face. 

Rey straightened her spine, listening to the door as it closed behind her. "I suppose you need to speak to me as well?" she asked with an even tone. 

Kydel stood up, giving Rose one quick glance before she nodded. "I thought we might speak in private." 

Realization dawned on her at once, and Rey shook her head immediately. "I don't think either of you has anything to say to me that the other need not hear," she said, going around Kaydel to occupy the seat she'd just vacated. 

She sat down, resting her hands on her lap. "You will both speak," Rey said calmly, seeking their gazes. "No more secrets, no more games. I do not care who speaks first, as long as you speak plainly and true." 

In the end, it was Rose who began, confessing what Rey already knew about Lady Paige's secret letters - attempts to bring her sister back into the fold, to pry for information about the enemy she so greatly despised. 

"I destroyed all of them," Rose said, eyes welling with tears. 

As she listened to her speak, Rey willed herself to remain impassive, as any monarch who passed judgement should. Elbows supported by the armrests, she intertwined her fingers to prevent from gripping anything with too much nervousness or force. 

"The absence of such letters can equally absolve and incriminate," Rey mused, trying to suppress the way in which the confession tugged at her heart. "After all, I am not privy to the contents of your missives and those your sister has sent." 

Bending forward, Rey slipped two fingers inside her boot, right by the heel. "I do have one letter, though," she said, producing the piece of parchment she'd stumbled across earlier that day, "though I cannot say it paints a favorable picture of you." 

She then handed the letter to Rose, who took it with a trembling hand. 

"Your sister was careless with your safety," she resumed, leaning against the backrest. "Had someone else found this, we would not be standing here having this conversation."

A brief pause descended over them as Rey considered her words. She'd agonized over a potential betrayal from the moment her father was slain on the field of battle, stumped over what decision she should make if her ladies in waiting appeared to be disloyal. And, ironically, now when the moment finally presented itself, she found her path to be remarkably clear. 

"I hope you tell your sister that as well when you see her," she said at last, biting the inside of her cheek. 

She observed as Rose shot her a confused glance. "I don't understand." 

"I'm letting you leave," Rey said, marveled by how lighter she felt after uttering those words. "I cannot force you to stay beside me and die if your loyalty lies elsewhere. If you wish to join your sister, then I will not stop you." 

"Are you… " Rose uttered, eyes widened. 

"You may go," she assured her. "No harm will come to you." 

She then turned to look at Kaydel, who had observed the exchange in silence all this time, her mouth agape and her cheeks flaming red. 

Tilting her head, Rey continued. "Whose letters have  _ you _ been receiving all this time?" 

Kaydel swallowed heavily. "My family is convinced I've made my bed, so I must lie in it." 

Rey arched an eyebrow. "But?"

A deep sigh preceded the confession. "But Lord Dameron isn't," Kaydel replied. "H-he's been courting me." 

Rey nodeed, the admission not at all surprising, in retrospect. The longing looks that Finn Calrissian and Lord Dameron had been directing towards her ladies in waiting were not lost on Rey, and while the former man seemed more prudent in his actions, the latter clearly lacked any form of restraint from what little she'd seen of him. 

"Do you believe he is courting you out of strategy, or genuine desire?" Rey asked. "I am asking this out of concern for your feelings, of course, but I will not sit here and lie by claiming I have no need to protect my own cause and interests as well." 

She leaned forward in her seat, elbows still supported by the armrests as she gripped the ends with her hands. "I asked for no secrets and games, and I intend to follow through as well." 

"I don't know," Kaydel answered, and Rey's heart pounded sadly at the uncertainty she glimpsed in her companion's eyes. 

Still, the corners of her lips went up, resigned yet oddly at peace. "Then I will give you the freedom to find out for yourself," Rey said, loosening her hold on the armrests. "No strings attached. I am giving you the choice to leave and join your family on the other side." 

She watched as Kaydel brushed a finger against the corner of her eye, knowing full well she'd captured a solitary tear. 

In her mind, Rey sensed their choice would be easy. The ties that bound them to their families would certainly prove stronger than the years of exile they'd spent by her side. 

One week ago, the knowledge would have filled her with bitterness. But now, it filled her with resignation. And understanding. 

"I know my offer might come as a surprise to you both," she added. "Rest assured that you will have enough time to prepare for your departure."

"I don't need time," Rose spoke up with a clear voice. "I'm staying with you." 

Dropping her hands limply into her lap, Rey could only stare as the words registered in her head. 

Rose wished to stay. Despite the overwhelming odds. 

"But… " she said at last, swallowing heavily. "Y-your sister needs you." 

"You are my sister just as much as Paige is," Rose answered, tilting her head to the side. As she spoke, Rey could sense tears prick the corners of her own eyes. "And you need me more than she does right now." 

If she weren't so shocked, Rey would have openly wept. There were few who dared to view her as something other than her ruthless family, and to finally see the proof of someone's kind regard both touched and humbled her to the core. 

"I am staying as well," Kaydel joined in, a teary smile etched on her face. "We've gone through so much together, Rey," she added, taking a step forward. "I am certain we've spent more time in each other's company than I did with my own family. And though you appear as if the hardships never bother you, I hope you can trust us well enough to share your burdens - whatever those may be." 

Glancing down for a brief second, Rey considered her next words. "Everything would be much better for you both if you went to the winning side. You'd be safer." 

Rose shook her head, and her lips curled up in a smile. "But it wouldn't feel right." 

  
  


~*~

  
  


A few agonizing days passed before she heard from Ben again.

_ Ben.  _

It was so odd to think of him that way, when Rey never once referred to him by his actual name. 

From the moment she was born, he'd been the usurper. The pretender. 

The exiled prince with fruitless dreams of crowns and glory. 

But then he slowly became Ben, and with that he turned into so much more. 

Each gaze and word became more and more meaningful, so when the requests for parleys stopped, it was as if she'd lost an important part of herself. 

Then, as the week drew to a close, and longing turned into despair a messenger from his side sought her at the castle's gates. 

"Let him in," Rey commanded, watching as the guards lowered the drawbridge over the moat to welcome Finn Calrissian inside. 

She could sense the lords shooting her looks of disapproval, but Rey brushed them aside as she left the battlements to head over to the inner courtyard below. 

Flanked by her ladies in waiting and advisors, she greeted the young man. "I did not expect to see you here, my lord," she said, adopting a composed appearance, one that she hoped did not betray her anxious state. "Has your king grown tired of our parleys? I never thought I'd see the day." 

Finn let out a chuckle, and Rey could plainly see he did not believe her indifference to be genuine. Still, she brushed that aside. "

"The king wishes to see you, as a matter of fact," he replied. "Right now." 

Curiosity took hold of her immediately. "And why has he not come himself, if he is so impatient to meet with me? 

"He wishes to see you somewhere else," Finn said, his gaze shifting to her ladies in waiting and the people who had gathered behind them in the meantime. " _ Alone _ ." 

"It is a trap," she heard Lord Plutt sputter behind her, and while she despised that man, Rey knew he had a point. 

The request, made so openly and in such a risky manner would have been suspicious coming from anyone other than Ben. He always did things openly, Rey knew that well. With him, there was no need for pretense. 

She knew him well enough to trust that he would never harm her, but the people surrounding him were an entirely different matter. She might be in love, but that did not make her blind. 

One unruly follower could change the course of the entire siege. 

"How do I know this request comes from your king, and is not some vengeful plot to assassinate me instead?“ she asked, eyebrows narrowed. 

Finn shot her a confused look, as if the thought of murder had never crossed his mind. "I have a letter from him," he added, fumbling with his hands in search of the document in question. 

"And how do I know the letter is genuine and not some wicked forgery you've devised without his knowledge?“ she insisted, oddly enjoying the way he squirmed at the accusation. 

"I would never do such a thing." 

Tilting her head, she gave him an amused look. "I don't know you well enough to believe that. If your king wishes to see me somewhere else, he will have to make the invitation himself." She paused for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek. "And if I accept to meet him, then I won't do it alone." 

Finn let out a deep breath. "You are making things very difficult for him, you know." 

"Good," she replied, barely able to stifle a smile. "I am certain he secretly enjoys the challenge anyway."

  
  


~*~ 

  
  


He came to her not long after his advisor departed, cheeks blooming with a dusty shade of pink. The wind ruffled his hair, and the sun emerged from behind the clouds as if it wished to see him as well, before retiring to it's gray alcove. 

As Rey listened to his invitation from the battlements, she nodded her assent, glancing down at the water that filled the moat just so she wouldn't get too distracted by his appearance…and mouth her agreement in public with too much enthusiasm. 

Soon enough, she emerged from the gate alongside her council and ladies, flanked by her closest guards like shadows. 

Under normal circumstances, she would have perhaps gone on horseback, but the distance to their meeting point was not so great, and deep down she yearned to spend as much time as she could outside Takodana's walls. 

Before Ben had brought war to the stronghold's gates, she'd journeyed along this road often, visiting the people and settlements which littered the fields. Now, most of the homes were empty, their inhabitants seeking refuge inside the castle. Some, however, still remained, and Rey could not ignore the twinge of regret that she was unable to protect them all - that there were only so many people Takodana could accommodate. 

Still, as the first cluster of cottages came into view, relief surged through her to find it still looked intact from up close. Any enemy host would have pillaged them upon arrival to ensure surrender - it was the harsh, yet practical and true reality of war - yet Ben had not done that. 

As Rey made her way through the settlement, she wondered why he was so intent on not causing any bloodshed now, when the stories of the decisive battle against her father's army in the south spoke otherwise. 

A creak caused Rey to jump, startled as it pierced through the silence. 

Guards gathered around her, prepared to defend and strike, but as soon as the source of the noise revealed itself, they lowered their weapons at once. 

A small boy emerged from behind the door of a small stone cottage, eyes widened with hesitation…and recognition. 

At once, Rey's gaze softened, and she took a step forward. "Stay back," she said to her entourage, slowly advancing towards the child. 

"Queen, Rey," the boy exclaimed, stepping out into the light outside. His clothes were worn and dirty, a faded shade of brown that hung limply on his frame. Rey's heart constricted. 

She crouched until her eyes were at the same level as the child's. "Hello there. What is your name?“

“Temiri," he said, scratching the back of his head in a bashful way. "Are you here to save us?“

_ Save us.  _ The words registered in her mind, the harsh reality of war and the price that people paid. He, like many others living in this region, depended on her success to ensure their survival. They hadn't asked for wars and uncertainty any more than she did. 

And yet, despite the odds, this boy, like many others, wished for her to prevail. Regardless of the odds. 

“Where are your parents, Temiri?“ she asked instead. When she opened Takodana's gates to her people, she'd insisted that women and children be allowed in first. 

Yet this child had somehow slipped through the cracks. 

"They fell ill and died, ma'am," Temiri replied, the words tragic in their simplicity. The truth was always tragic. "I stayed to take care of them. To protect them if we got attacked." 

Taking a deep breath, Rey steeled herself. "And were you attacked?" 

He shook his head, and she let out another heavy exhale. It was a miracle, she knew well, that Temiri had been able to survive for as long as he did - and under such tragic circumstances. Deep down, she berated herself for not having been more thorough, for not having ordered that each house be searched to prevent any children from being left behind by accident. 

But the other part of her knew there was only so much that could be done with the time they had, and that while Temiri's parents had been plagued by illness, at least there was still hope for him. 

"Is the war over?" she heard him ask, his eyes rounded. "Did we win? My parents said we would.“

She gave him a smile, one she hoped didn't look too sad. "Not yet," she replied, reaching out to take his hand in reassurance. "I'm off to speak with their king." 

He offered his hand to her. "Why? Aren't you afraid they'll kill you?" 

“No." She squeezed his hand in reassurance. "Their king would never harm me." 

With his free hand, he scratched his head. "Why? Aren't enemies supposed to hurt each other?” 

"He's not my enemy," she replied, her gaze shifting towards her left, towards the path she had to traverse to see him again. "He used to be, but not anymore." 

Temiri gave her a curious look. "Are you in love with him?” 

Rey's eyes widened. Of all the things she had prepared herself for, encountering an orphaned child who wished to discuss matters of the heart in a seemingly abandoned village, was the last thing of them all. 

An assassination attempt was much higher on her list of expectations. 

"Are you in love with him?” he asked again. 

"Yes, I am." 

The words flowed with ease, and it surprised Rey how much lighter she felt by finally admitting it out loud. 

"And, is he in love with you?”

Biting her lower lip, she considered his question. "I don't know." 

"I think he is," Temiri proclaimed with a nod. 

Rey chuckled. "What makes you think that? You haven't even seen him.” 

Temiri shrugged. "Believe me, I  _ have _ . If he's the big tall knight with the red crown that I saw pacing up and down this road all day, then I am right."

She gave him a confused look, but decided not to insist any further. The child's safety was much more important, as was getting to the parley on time. 

"Then how about we go and see if you're right about what you saw, Temiri," she suggested, getting up. "I would be very happy if you joined this meeting, and then I would be even happier if you stayed with us in Takodana. You'll have a warm meal and a bed to sleep in." She gave him an encouraging smile. "How does that sound?”

He smiled back. 

  
  


~*~

  
  


The parley took place at a crossroads beneath an old oak tree. A small table was set right under the shadow of its golden leaves, and on it stood enough food and drink for two people. 

Then, at a respectable distance, a dozen other tables stood as well, larger in size, all ready to serve Rey's attendants. 

"This is a trap if I've ever seen one," Lord Plutt muttered right next to her, shooting narrowed glances as Ben's followers sat at their tables. 

Suppressing the desire to roll her eyes, Rey focused instead on the broad figure approaching them, clad in dark armor and a crown of rubies that shone bright atop his head. From beside her, Temiri tugged at her sleeve excitedly, confirming that this was indeed the knight he'd seen today. 

Rey's heart pounded as Ben stopped in front of her, giving her a curt nod. "My lady," he said in an official tone. "I'm glad–” 

"She's Queen Rey," Temiri spoke up, stepping in front of her like a shield. 

"Temiri," she interrupted him, taking his hand into hers to subdue him. 

Ben chuckled at that, bending down at the child's eye level. "Indeed she is," he conceded. 

At the first acknowledgement of her status, Rey's mouth parted with shock. It was not just any admission; it was a public statement made in the presence of both their followers. 

Still, Ben continued, giving the boy a soft look. "And who might you be?” 

Temiri introduced himself, tilting his head proudly. 

"We met in the village on our way here," Rey added. "It is a good thing you've organized this parley, my lord, otherwise our paths wouldn't have crossed. Do you, by any chance have a seat at one of those large tables for my new friend? He could use a hearty meal and some company before we head back to Takodana." 

Ben looked up at her, and she could see as understanding dawned on him. "Of course," he said, standing up to look into her eyes. "Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. And even if your paths hadn't crossed, there would still be room." 

She smiled at that, her heart full. "I'm glad to hear that." 

  
  


~*~

  
  


"I wasn't aware we'd be having food and refreshments during this parley, my lord," Rey teased him as he filled her goblet to the brim with wine. "Your preparations for this meeting have exceeded my wildest expectations." 

Ben nodded and placed the goblet in front of her, right next to her plate of cold meats and cheeses. 

"And as I am sitting here," she resumed with a teasing tone, "I can't make up my mind if you're trying to poison me with this heavenly nectar, or use my level of hunger as a means to uncover the state of our food supplies."

A smile played on his lips as he poured wine for himself. "Or perhaps I am trying to get you drunk, so that you can reveal a vital piece of information that will help me prevail in this war."

She chuckled at that. "Only we can have such a morbid and inappropriate sense of humor. Sadly, if my advisors were to hear you, they'd probably put these ideas into practice.” 

Sitting down at the table, Ben regarded her with a gentle look. "I would never harm you, Rey. I hope the time we've spent together is proof enough. When I made this invitation through my advisor, hurting you was furthest from my mind." 

"I know." She gave him a smile, resting her palm on the table. "But a crown does not guarantee full control over the impulses and actions of each individual. Your invitation, though kind, was too brazen and public for me to accept without repercussions."

He nodded in understanding. "Sometimes it is easy for me to lose sight of my people's impulses. I assume that because they've all wanted me to be king for so long, they will naturally fall in line and do as I say with no objections." His gaze became pensive, as if he were recalling memories buried not so long ago. "These past weeks have taught me more than what I spent a lifetime learning about." 

"I would be far more worried if nobody questioned the things I did," Rey admitted, grabbing the goblet of wine and taking a sip. "There is no growth without doubt and reflection. I am glad you are being questioned. That means you can weigh your options carefully and choose whichever one you think is right and justify it." 

"I've been doing a lot of that, as of late," he confessed, bringing the goblet to his lips for a drink. "I expected blind obedience from my followers just as much as they expected it from me."

She nodded. "And what have you been weighing?“

“My future," he answered plainly. "How best to merge my own desires with the ambitions of my advisors and the wishes of my people."

"That is always a difficult thing to do. My father and grandfather only thought of their own interests and brought fear and hatred upon themselves." 

He leaned forward in his seat. "What do  _ you _ think of?“

Taking a deep breath, she opened herself to him, the remnants of hesitation melting away like snow under the sunlight. "I think of what others think of me, and how I can show them that I am more than my family's name." 

"So you think of yourself too?“ he countered, his expression oddly intrigued. 

Her lips quirked at that. "In a more roundabout way, I do," she admitted. "But that is always intertwined with the well-being of others. If I succeed, so do they." 

Ben gave her a nod, his eyes boring into hers with what looked like understanding. "This region is so different from the ones I've conquered. I sometimes feel as if I've stepped into a different kingdom altogether." 

Biting her lower lip, Rey allowed the significance of his admission to sink in. All his life was spent in exile, drowning in tales and assumptions without experiencing reality for himself. She did not envy his upbringing…not anymore.

"I cannot presume I know what it's like to only learn about your home from the stories of others," she told him, wishing she could freely take his hand in hers and hold it with reassurance. 

"The south was the Alderaan I expected," Ben said, resting his arms on his lap. "The one that bled and waited to be saved, according to the stories that my older advisors and caretakers told me every night." He took a deep breath before he continued. "But this region is not waiting for me. It never has." 

Rey nodded, her thoughts straying to the people who waited for her at Takodana, to the others who also depended on her and had no place to seek refuge in. 

"As much as your followers might hate to hear it, many of the people who sought shelter behind Takodana's walls are simple men and women who depend upon this land for survival." She tapped her fingers against the table for a brief moment. "I've looked after them for years while my father busied himself being a tyrant at court. Because I lived here for so long, I was able to shield them from the worst of my father's impulses."

She glanced down for a moment before she found his gaze again. "Most of the stories you heard about my family were true." Her hand brushed against the cutlery, gray metal that matched the angry clouds looming above them. "It hurts to admit how much they hurt me still." 

With a resigned look, she popped a piece of cheese in her mouth, partly because she was hungry, but also because it pained her to speak even further on the topic. 

"You're not your family," he said, resting his hand on the table, his longest fingers brushing against the basket of bread that sat right between them. "There's more to you than the blood that flows through your veins. And as the time passes, I think more people are starting to see that." 

Chewing thoughtfully, she took in his words. She wondered if his followers could be counted among those people, hoping deep down that her attempts to delay an inevitable defeat were enough to earn at least some of their respect. If they admired her determination enough to not seek vengeance, she would be satisfied on one account. 

"I've learned a great many things from you today," he added, giving her a warm look. "As I do every time we meet." 

Intrigued, she leaned forward, placing the cutlery on her plate. "What did you learn? How to be suspicious of all those around you?” 

Ben shook his head. "You call it  _ suspicious _ , but I prefer to use the word  _ cautious  _ instead,” he said. “You say there is nothing wrong with others questioning your motives, so why shouldn't you do the same in order to ensure your own safety?"

“Sometimes I question too much," she amended. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Ben took the goblet of wine in his hand and drank. "I never said you were perfect." 

She laughed at that, stifling the sound with her hand pressed against her mouth, lest the people around them overhear. "I'm glad," she replied. "I would hate it if you were blind to my faults." 

"I cannot blame you for it, though," he continued, running a hand through his windswept hair. "You grew up in an environment which demanded that you question the motives of those around you. I suppose that has served you well on your path towards becoming queen." 

A smile played on Rey's lips. "I do believe this is the second time today that you've acknowledged my position." 

Nodding, Ben leaned forward. "Because it is the truth. You are a queen," he said his eyes never leaving hers. "And I asked you here today because I very much hope that you will accept to be my queen as well." 

Taking a deep breath, his right hand reached into the basket of bread. She could only gaze at him, contemplating the intent behind his request and gesture, the two not quite adding up as she thought they would. 

But, when he emerged with a thin gold band of sapphires in his possession, holding it between his thumb and index finger as if it were the most valuable object known to man, everything made sense. 

He placed the ring on the table, and she looked down at it with wide eyes and cheeks that bloomed a deep shade of pink. 

"Marry me, Rey." 

  
  


~*~

  
  


The request, so simply and honestly stated, robbed her of breath. 

"Give me your castle, and I will give you this kingdom," Ben said, with a voice so soft she nearly wept. "Give me your hand, and I will give you my heart, though you've already claimed it from the moment we first met." 

Curling her fingers, her gaze shifted from the ring that matched her crown to his expectant face. His cheeks, so pale despite the hours spent outdoors in training, bloomed with heat as he spoke, and when silence descended upon them, Rey saw his eyes widen in anticipation, hope and fear reflected in their depth. 

With a trembling hand, she reached for the goblet, taking a sip of wine to soothe her dry throat. 

"A-aren't you promised to another?” she managed to say, her voice shaking as much as her limbs did. 

His eyebrows furrowed, confusion visible. "No," he replied, seeking her gaze. "I am not." 

Placing the glass back on the table, she nodded. "I thought you would be," she continued, trying to make sense of it all, trying to convince herself that this wasn't just a beautiful dream. "You have returned to conquer the kingdom that once belonged to your family and fight a war that could easily end your life. Isn't it natural that you secure the succession, as the last of your line?" 

He shot her a disbelieving look. "Are you chastising me for not marrying someone else? As I am proposing to you?" A low laugh followed. "You are truly the most fascinating person I've ever met, Rey. You confound and delight me so."

A flutter nestled itself in her lower belly. "You took a great risk in coming here," she said instead. "I am surprised your advisors didn't insist on marrying you off as soon as you set foot on Alderaan’s shores. Or that they allowed you to ask for my hand in marriage…the daughter of their greatest enemy." 

"Believe me, they tried on both accounts," Ben answered. "Until they realized that it was pointless to attempt to control every aspect of my existence.” His gaze shone as he spoke. “And until they finally saw that you were nothing like what they first envisioned.” 

The corners of her mouth twitched. “I imagine it took quite a bit of convincing on your part.”

He shook his head. “The merit is all yours, Rey.” The wind ruffled his hair as he continued, undeterred. “You are stronger than you know.”

It was difficult to maintain her calm demeanor while all eyes were on them; to pretend they were only discussing dry political matters instead of baring their souls to one another. But it had to be done - at least for now. Their circumstances and positions demanded it.

It would be a lie to say the respect and kindness Ben displayed towards her played no role in her regard for him. Combined with his sheer strength and broad frame, they were an irresistible combination.

“Though I am chastising you for the risk you took, I cannot deny that I am relieved to hear that you have not been promised to another,” she confessed, cheeks flushed as she voiced the fear which plagued her.

Before this moment, she’d buried deep inside her all the agonizing moments where she speculated about his potential marriage, convinced that a union between them would never be sanctioned by his council. 

Tilting his head, Ben regarded her thoughtfully before he spoke. “Have  _ you  _ been promised?” he asked, and she could hear panic seep through his low voice. “In my eagerness, I did not pause to think whether a choice had been imposed upon you or not.”

As she listened to him speak, she recalled Lord Plutt’s ambitions, nausea bubbling inside. With a grimace, she reached for the wine goblet and took another sip to wash away the unpleasant sensation. “My father despised my existence too much to even bother about securing my future," she said, placing the drink on the table. “As soon as his crown passed to me, the vultures started to circle around it. I trust you know who led the charge.”

Clenching his jaw, Ben nodded. “Say the word and I will dispose of him immediately.”

“I would hate it if you did that without just cause,” she replied, giving him a steady look. “Many dream of crowns and glory. Ambitions are hardly treasonous unless they act upon them.”

“To think I had the audacity to believe that you were anything like the kings who came before you.” He took a deep breath, the regret evident. “It was very rash of me.”

Her gaze sparkled as she spoke. “I never said you were perfect either.”

“That can only be a good thing.” A low laugh escaped his lips. “I do love you.”

“As do I,” she said, brushing a finger against the corner of her eye. A tear had gathered there - relief, joy, and indignation fused in a single drop. "You have my heart as much as I do yours." 

In response, Ben’s gaze misted. "Oh, Rey," he murmured, and she could see relief surge through him as he said her name. "So you will marry me then? Walk through this life together…as equals?" 

She nodded then, her heart swelling with joy. If they weren't in plain view of so many people, and with so many other matters they needed to discuss before the parley came to its natural end, she would have jumped in his arms then and there. 

And, from the understanding nestled in his eyes, she knew he would have done the same, propriety be damned. 

Reaching for the ring with the tips of her fingers, she discreetly slipped the thin band on her ring finger, amazed by how perfectly it fit. "Yes," she answered. "I will marry you." 

  
  


~*~

  
  


She summoned her advisors before supper.

Taking her seat at the head of the table, Rey watched as they entered the war room one by one with grim faces, led by Lord Plutt as if they were attending a funeral instead of a meeting. Her ladies in waiting were last to enter, taking their seats on the bench located in front of the window, the same place they stood on the night she held her first council as queen. 

As the doors closed, Rey could not help but marvel at how much things had changed since then. Not too long ago she was the leader of a lost cause, fighting an enemy who had vowed to destroy her despite having never crossed paths before. 

Now, she was engaged to the same enemy, having fallen in love with him despite all the obstacles thrown in their path.

“I suppose you are all eager to know what was discussed earlier today,” she spoke, once they all sat at the table, their eyes fixed upon her expectantly.

A few gruff nods echoed. Outside, the wind howled with the promise of rain.

Rey took a deep breath. “The king and I have agreed to marry and rule as equals.”

Silence descended over the room, as everyone stared at her with slack jaws, her ladies in waiting included. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Rey continued.

“If Alderaan is to prosper, then a peaceful resolution of this war is in order.” She straightened her back, and with each word it seemed as if she became more confident, more certain that  _ this _ was the right solution to all their problems, not just to the turmoil which had been churning inside her chest. “I can think of no better way to achieve this than through matrimony. And not just  _ any _ union, but one between two people whose families have hated each other for generations. By healing this wound, we will heal the kingdom.”

Lord Plutt stood up then, his chair falling to the ground as he moved. “A Skywalker on the throne of Alderaan? Are you mad?”

Tilting her head, she regarded him with a sharp look. “A Skywalker  _ and  _ a Palpatine. Or have you forgotten who I am, my lord?” she corrected him, her voice calm. “We will surrender the castle in the morning, and preparations for our marriage and joint coronation will begin immediately.”

“I wish I did,” he muttered. ““Your father…”

“My father is dead,” Rey interrupted. “Killed as a result of his own brutality and negligence.”

She went to her feet then, placing her palms on the edge of the table for support. The map of Alderaan once stood there, unfurled, waiting to be poured over for strategy and war. Now, only candles decorated the surface, casting a pale glow across the room. The time for battles had gone and went.

“You will be happy to learn, my lords, that you will suffer no consequences when I surrender the castle,” she resumed, her gaze shifting to glance into their faces. 

Their eyes were narrowed, mistrust embedded deep within as they too stood up. A few inched closer to the doors, hands on their pommels. 

A heavy sigh left her lips. “As a result of the negotiations I’ve undertaken on our behalf, you will keep your titles, lands, and positions at court. Just as you did when my father and grandfather ruled.” For a brief moment, her eyes wandered over to where her ladies in waiting stood, the reminder of their bravery and loyalty still resonating in Rey’s mind. “And as part of this agreement, my ladies in waiting will marry the king’s closest advisors - to ensure stability and loyalty within two of the oldest families of Alderaan.”

Kaydel’s eyes widened, and just as Rey glanced down she could see Rose attempt to stifle a smile. Indeed, things could not have worked out any better - and she hoped these disgruntled lords were capable of displaying a modicum of common sense.

_ If they value their lives, they will _ , she thought.

Plutt’s fist clenched, and he slammed it against the table. If she weren’t so used to his outburst, she would have flinched. However, all she could do was look at him with a bored expression, as if she were faced with a petulant child used to always getting his way.

Instinctively, she turned away from the table, making her way through the sea of disgruntled lords to stand next to her ladies in waiting. The window was slightly ajar, so she opened it wide enough to fully allow the evening air in.

“I suggest you all retire early tonight, my lords,” she said, putting her arm out to let the wind wash over it for a few seconds. “There is so much that needs to be done.”

A drop of rain pelted her skin. Then another - until several fell from the skies in quick succession to fill the moat below. 

Her chief advisor gritted his teeth. “So this is your  _ final _ order?” he asked, flashing her an angry look before he squared his shoulders and gazed at the other lords with a dark glint in his eyes.

Resting her hand on the windowsill, Rey shook her head, tilting her body towards the window as rain continued to pour. “Only one of many. My next order will be the one to execute you, and I shall take great pleasure in it.”

The unmistakable sound of a drawn sword echoed inside the war room, and she glimpsed Lord Plutt advance, unimpeded. 

Without a second to lose, she flung herself out the window and into the moat below.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, I'd love to hear from you! :) Thank you so much for reading!


	8. Refuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His rage was still, like a silent and deadly ocean.
> 
> As he clutched the missive Plutt had sent him - a heart-wrenching announcement followed by a haughty declaration of war - Ben stared at his adviser with blank eyes.
> 
> Something inside Ben died in that moment. 
> 
> Whatever ounce of composure he’d acquired in the last couple of weeks was only due to Rey’s influence. Her presence, her voice and her insights and, whenever she was absent, the thought that she was somewhere nearby - hopefully waiting to see him and much as he did her. 
> 
> Inevitably, he blamed himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support and your patience! I hope you enjoy this update. This chapter is unbeta-ed, due to obvious Tros related reasons. Special thank you to @sweetkyloren for helping me brainstorm a small kink in the story.

\--

It was the sound of rain that awoke Ben first, as if it sought to speak to him.

Laying on the mattress, he looked up at the tent’s ceiling, visible due to the fire that bathed the room in warmth. He listened to the seemingly endless raindrops, thankful that with the coming of daylight, the war would finally end.

He did not know what time it was, but the stillness outside indicated that they were well into the dead of night, and as the thought dawned on him it seemed that time had stretched, delaying the inevitable.

The peaceful surrender of Takodana. The tender reunion with the woman he loved.

Though not long had passed since their last meeting, he already missed Rey tremendously. Even now, hours after their final parley, he could not believe that she had given him her hand in marriage, that he could hope to build a life with her despite the obstacles that once stood in their path. 

As he let out a contented sigh, thunder rumbled outside the tent, and Ben wondered if she faced the elements with as much defiance as she did those who doubted her capabilities. He smiled at that, the thought that they had a lifetime to discover each other taking root inside his mind.

It was difficult not to think of her as his wife already.

What once seemed like an insurmountable barrier, had turned, along the way, into something unavoidable, as if fate had engineered their coming together - though Ben knew well it was Rey’s courage and strength which had a hand in shifting the tide. Had his advisers not opened their eyes to what lay beneath the unflappable exterior she displayed during their meetings, they likely would have never championed his cause. 

Time was all they needed, and she had granted it to them in spades. 

As he lay on his back, a loud noise pierced his thoughts - agitated voices and hurried steps splashing against the mud and puddles outside.

Frowning, Ben stood up, reaching for a robe to cover himself. He slipped it on, his heart pounding just as Poe stepped inside the tent, his hair wet and his armor askew, wearing the shifting expression of a man who came bearing bad news.

One look at his friend’s face was enough. Blood turned cold in Ben’s veins as he approached him, grabbing Poe by the shoulders to force him to look into his eyes.

“What is it?” he bit out, though deep inside he felt as if he knew the answer already. As if he’d been meant to wake up in the dead of night for a reason. “Say it.”

His adviser took a deep breath. “It’s Plutt,” Poe said, his eyes grim and concerned. “He claims Rey is dead.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


His rage was still, like a silent and deadly ocean.

As he clutched the missive Plutt had sent him - a heart-wrenching announcement followed by a haughty declaration of war - Ben stared at his adviser with blank eyes.

Something inside Ben died in that moment. 

Whatever ounce of composure he’d acquired in the last couple of weeks was only due to Rey’s influence. Her presence, her voice and her insights and, whenever she was absent, the thought that she was somewhere nearby - hopefully waiting to see him and much as he did her. 

Inevitably, he blamed himself.

“I should have asked her to come with me,” he said, sitting down on a chair as the letter fell limply on the floor. “Asked her to surrender the castle then and there, without having to placate a dozen enemy families. Execute anyone who disapproved.”

“She wouldn’t have wanted you to do that,” Poe replied in an attempt to console him. “She wanted peace just as much as you do.”

Deep down, he knew Poe was right, but his anger, the familiar beast that simmered within, was waiting to be unleashed.

”You should not blame yourself for something you could not predict.”

Ben shook his head. “I should have predicted it. Plutt loathed her and would have done anything to harm her if he felt the reason was justified.” 

“Ben -”

Burying his face in his palms, Ben sighed. It was hard not to think of the cruel ways Plutt could have killed her, of the suffering she must have gone through. 

“I was so blind. And foolish.”

“You weren’t,” Poe reasoned, pacing around the room. “Plutt was the foolish one to refuse a surrender that guaranteed his life and lands would be left intact. Everything would have been as it was, but his hatred and blindness got in the way.”

Anger simmered in Ben’s veins anew, as it had on the day he won his crown on the field of battle. 

He could avenge her. Fight on the morrow with honor and kill the man who’d robbed Rey of her life.

It was the least he could do.

“We will attack at dawn,” Ben said with a low voice. “If Plutt wishes to face us in the open field, then so be it. I will tear him apart.”

Poe glanced down, pausing for just a moment before his eyes went back up to face him. “Revenge won’t bring her back.”

He clenched his jaw. “Three weeks ago you thought differently.”

“I did.” His adviser nodded. “But Rey inspired more people than you think.”

Ben’s thoughts travelled to the moment he’d first glimpsed her on the drawbridge, clad in white as if attending her own wedding, and his heart bled. “I know she did,” he replied. “And that is why I hope you understand that I will avenge her, no matter how hollow the victory is. I was bred for warfare, and this is the only way I know how to honor her now.”

Poe shot him a sad look, somewhere between resignation and understanding. “I’ll gather the council then.”

Nodding his assent, Ben dismissed his advisor, watching as he slipped out of the tent with hurried steps. Then, leaning against the back of the chair, he let his arms fall limply to the side. 

He imagined his life without her, and loneliness engulfed him. 

An empty castle that would never know the sound of her laugh or the pitter-patter of tiny feet. An empty bed, robbed of her presence as he awoke to face the day. 

Ruling over a bleeding kingdom and ensuring the happiness of many when he was dead inside.

He could never love another. He knew that in his bones.

Then, as the commotion outside grew, he thought of her grandfather, likely hearing the same news himself, and his heart broke even further for the old man who hoped to spend his last years with the only family he had left.

Maybe their were both cursed to live out their lives in darkness. Tears welled in his eyes at the thought. 

He had never even held her hand. 

Unexpectedly, a woman’s voice pierced through the darkness. A voice that should have been a ghost.

A voice demanding to see him.

He stood up, his heart pounding.

“Rey!”

  
  


~*~

  
  


He saw her as he slipped outside the tent, standing in the rain with her dress in tatters.

Soldiers flanked her lithe frame, but Rey’s expression remained unbothered as soon as her eyes met his. 

Letting out a deep breath, Ben stepped outside into the pouring rain, unable to speak. 

Just moments ago, he’d been in agony thinking he had lost Rey forever, contemplating his bleak existence and her tragic demise. 

But now, she stood before him, muddy and hurt - but very much alive.

How this had all happened, he could not venture a guess.

As he approached her, the soldiers parted in front of him to make room, their expressions solemn and concerned.

Concerned, he noticed as he took a better look at their faces ... concerned for her.

He still could not speak, as if he feared this was a dream and her appearance nothing but a ghost sent to give him false hope. Swallowing heavily, he could feel his chest constrict at the thought.

When she spoke at last, the illusion shattered. 

“Ben.”

It was a whisper, but he heard it nonetheless, and relief washed over him.

All barriers shattered as he swept her in his arms. She burrowed her face into his chest, and in his heart of hearts he knew she wished to hide from the world because of her circumstances.

Numerous questions flowed through his mind, but he set them aside, focusing on the woman he loved with all his heart. He barked out orders as he turned around to go back inside - requests for battle plans to be drawn, mixed with orders to ensure Rey’s well-being. 

Dimly, he registered the presence of her ladies in waiting, both sporting somewhat relieved expressions as Finn and Poe attended to them. 

Nodding towards his advisers, Ben left them and slipped inside the tent. 

  
  


~*~

  
  


He wrapped her in furs and woolen blankets as he placed her by the fire. She was shivering, alarmingly so, and the fear that she might fall ill took hold hold of Ben in an instant. 

Lowering himself to his knees, he touched Rey's forehead, then cupped her wet cheeks to look into her eyes. 

"I'll summon my physician to see you," he decided. 

She turned away, glancing at the flames. "I'm fine." 

Staring at the back of her head, he let out a sigh. "You don't have to do this Rey," he said, wishing he could reach out and cup her face anew. "Not with me. We are in this together." 

His words were met with silence, and only the sound the crackling fire echoed inside the tent. Outside, however, the storm seemed to abate, and the hurried steps of his soldiers made themselves known. The camp was buzzing with life but here, inside his quarters, they were in their own world. 

"I've asked my attendants to boil some water for a bath," he resumed, seeing that she was in no mood to speak. 

Even through the layers which concealed her frame, he could see her shoulders were tense, raked with a fear she refused to make known. 

As always, she wanted to project a truly unflappable image to the world, and he could not imagine the effort and courage it must have taken for her to come to him in this state. 

"Sooner or later, we're going to have to talk about what happened, Rey," he continued with a low voice. "I have an inkling, but I know it's not enough."

A sigh left her lips. "I could always hide from everyone else, but I never quite managed to do the same from you." 

"You say this as if it's a bad thing." 

"It can be," she conceded. "If you've spent your entire life lying to everyone else about how you feel." 

She tightened her grip on the blankets as if they were her personal armor. "When you finally wish to bare your soul to another, it becomes terrifying."

"I know it's hard, but it's the only way, we can move forward," he said, his hands itching to touch her again, to brush his fingertips against her shivering skin in an attempt to soothe. "I cannot imagine baring my soul to anyone but you, Rey." 

The fire bathed her in warmth. "I know," came her reply. "I can't think of anyone else either." 

A brief pause followed, and Ben could hear her take deep breaths to calm herself. To open herself to him. 

From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the letter he'd dropped not long ago, laying limply on the floor. 

He picked it up before returning to his spot beside the fire. 

Beside _her_. 

"Plutt had this delivered here not long before you arrived," he said, handing over the missive for Rey to peruse - hoping that it would give her the means to open up. 

With a trembling hand, she took the letter and read through it. When she reached the end, her eyes widened. 

"He made you believe I was dead," she whispered, bringing her forefinger to wipe the corner of her right eye. "Oh, Ben." 

He looked down, unwilling to relieve the agonizing moments in which he thought she'd been lost forever. Tears threatened to well in his eyes. 

Somehow, she must have sensed his distress, for she changed the topic immediately. "And now he wishes to take the kingdom for himself." Her voice betrayed her disbelief. "To wage war against you at dawn." 

Ben could only shrug at that. "I would gladly wage war against anyone that harmed you. Plutt and the rest of your traitorous council will die tomorrow, Rey. I will make sure of it" 

She shook her head, and from the darkness in her gaze Ben could tell she was done with pleading for mercy on their behalf. “If you kill his advisers on the field of battle, I won’t mind it. But Plutt is mine to dispose of as I see fit.”

He nodded at that, knowing deep down that she was right. As much as he wished to tear Plutt limb from limb, he was truly Rey's demon to slay. 

"Thank you," she said, placing the letter beside her on the floor. 

Then, unexpectedly, her hand reached out to touch his own. The contact made him blush, as if he were a shy boy of twelve instead of a man in his late twenties - and though this did not count as the first time he'd touched her tonight, his thoughts still wandered to the despair he felt earlier, when he realized he'd never held her hand and lost her forever. 

He could not be more grateful for this precious gift. This second chance. 

Resting her palm on his knuckles, she opened up and told him everything. 

  
  


~*~

  
  


The servants arrived when she wrapped up her story. They carried food, soap and linens, not to mention buckets of hot water for a much needed bath. 

Ben stood up, reluctant to leave her side, but eager to do what he could to make Rey feel comfortable, warm, and safe. It was, he surmised, the least he could do. 

Soon enough, two more attendants brought in a large copper tub and filled it with water. He observed the preparations with care, testing the water to ensure the temperature was just right for his betrothed, making sure they'd brought in enough food to keep her sated. 

Satisfied, he nodded, dismissing each attendant until only one remained, passing him a note before he retired for the night. 

Unwrapping the parchment with interest, Ben perused the content. 

“Your grandfather wishes to see you,” he announced, watching as Rey turned away from him to gaze into the fire. 

"I… I cannot," she replied, and he could sense the regret in her voice. "I don't want him to see me like this."

He nodded in understanding. Knowing Rey as he did, he expected as much. After all she had gone through in the last couple of hours, it was not a surprise that she wished to postpone what would undoubtedly be an emotional family reunion. 

"I'll inform him," he told her, slowly making his way towards the exit. 

"Wait." She turned around, looking at him with unshed tears. "Will he be angry if I refuse?” she asked, and in that moment Ben was certain he could glimpse the frightened girl who'd survived her father's court. 

His heart constricted at the thought of how dangerous her life must have been, how heavily scrutinized and lonely she might have felt under her family's rule. The confessions exchanged during their previous meeting had only scratched the surface. 

House Palpatine knew no mercy. 

"He loves you too much to be upset at you," he replied. "Lord Kenobi is different from your other side of the family. When you feel ready to speak with him, you'll see." 

Her gaze grew misty. "How can he be when he allowed his only child to marry a monster?" 

He went back to her in an instant, wrapping his arms around her lithe frame. "Rey."

Something inside her must have burst then, for she burrowed her face in his chest just as a sob wrecked her body. 

The restraint from their previous meetings vanished. She was sobbing now, freely, releasing every emotion she'd been bottling up for what Ben suspected had been years. 

She cried like someone who had forgotten what that was like - struggling for breath as her tears flowed, soaking his robe. 

Ben held her close to his chest, intent on giving her whatever comfort he could. His palms rubbed her back with soothing motions,willing her breathing to steady. 

After a while, the tears subsided, and she looked up at him with a wild and mournful gaze. "How can he be different if he abandoned my mother as he abandoned me?” 

Ben considered her words carefully. In the past couple of weeks, he'd gotten to know Lord Kenobi quite well, and there was nothing in the old man's demeanor which suggested he did not care for his granddaughter. 

But, he surmised as he looked into his beloved's hazel eyes, that was something she had to see for herself. He couldn't - and wouldn't - sway her opinion in any way. 

"These are questions only he can answer, Rey," he replied at last, stroking her left cheek with his thumb. "I cannot speak on his behalf." 

She nodded at that, seemingly understanding what he meant. Burying her face in his robe again, she rubbed her nose against the fabric and inhaled. 

"I am not usually this weak," she whispered, and even though her voice was so small, Ben could sense her hesitation to say those words out loud. 

Words he never believed to be a true reflection of her character in the first place. 

"Tears aren't a weakness, Rey. They don't chip away at your strength," he answered, tilting her chin up to look into her misty gaze. "They are simply a sign that we're human. They're a part of life, and you're the strongest person I know - regardless of how many of them you've shed or not." 

She pressed her cheek against his chest, and Ben could swear his heart jumped out of his chest with joy and relief. "I love you, Ben," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

Resting his chin on the top of her head, he pulled her close, relief flowing through him that she was in his arms at last. 

Alive. 

Tears of joy gathered at the corners of his eyes. "I love you too, Rey," he replied. "I love you so much." 

  
  


~*~

  
  


He slipped out of the tent while she bathed. 

A part of him would have lingered, but he loathed to cause Rey any discomfort after an already tumultuous evening. 

Therefore, Ben busied himself with delivering Rey's message to her grandfather, assuring the old man that he would have the chance to speak with her at length some other time. 

Tonight was a night for healing. 

Soon enough, he found himself pacing aimlessly around the camp, avoiding the curious glances coming from the guards. They regarded him with furrowed brows, as if his presence outside the tent in nothing but a pair of boots and a night robe was an anomaly. 

Letting out a deep sigh, Ben surmised they must be right. 

In an effort to draw attention away from himself, he ventured closer towards Finn and Poe's tents, but the feminine moans coming from within prevented Ben from advancing any further. 

It seemed that Rey's ladies in waiting were being thoroughly attended to. 

Blushing heavily, he stepped back, inching closer and closer to his own tent. He wondered if it was wise to slip inside while Rey bathed. She was still reeling from the attempt on her life orchestrated by Plutt and her sudden escape, as well as the long journey on foot to this camp and the fear that Plutt's men might capture her at any moment. 

And now, after the news that her grandfather wanted to see her, Ben could not imagine imposing his presence upon her for longer than what was deemed necessary. 

Or his desires. 

He imagined her bathing in the tub, running her hands along her neck and breasts before she slipped one between her legs, beckoning him to help her… to clean and soothe her. 

It was difficult to desire anything other than that. To touch her anywhere was a blessing, and in light of the recent events which transpired, he would never take it for granted. 

Running a hand through his hair, he let out a deep sigh. 

He envisioned kissing her lips, softly at first, savoring the taste of her and swallowing her moans. Then he would travel downward, peppering her neck with kisses and nibbling at the tender flesh. Her breasts would follow then, and he would take each pebbled nipple in his mouth and graze it with his teeth until her breath hitched. 

Anything she asked of him, he would give. 

"Ben," he heard her call out in a concerned voice. "Come inside." 

The request made his arousal harden even further, and he was grateful for the thick robe and the darkness which concealed it. 

He obeyed her - how could he not when it meant that he would be in her presence again? That maybe his presence wasn't as imposing as he thought. With eager hands, Ben parted the entrance and slipped inside the tent. 

The sight which lay before him almost brought him to his knees. 

  
  


~*~

  
  


She sat by the fire, running her fingers through her damp hair. Clad in a plain white nightgown, made of a fabric so thin he could glimpse the outline of her nipples, she regarded him with a relieved smile. 

"I was worried I'd be left alone tonight," Rey confessed, biting her lower lip. 

Stepping inside, he took in her concerned gaze, willing his eyes not to look any lower. "I thought I would give you some privacy." 

She nodded. "Will you sit beside me now?” 

He did just that. 

For a moment, silence reigned inside the tent as he struggled to find his words. It wasn't until she resumed running her fingers through her hair that he finally said something.

"Let me help you," he offered standing up to search through his belongings. 

When it was all over, he resumed his seat, holding a comb in his hand. 

Wordlessly, Rey gave him a soft smile and turned around, giving him permission to untangle and dry her hair. 

He moved methodically, combing her long locks with smooth and effective strokes. From time to time, his fingers and knuckles would brush against her neck and shoulders, and she would let out a shaky breath that went straight to his groin. Positioning himself as best he could, he continued to care for her, neatly arranging the locks that cascaded over her shoulder blades and along her back until they stopped at her waist. 

"How many attempts upon your life did you survive?” she spoke at last, and he paused briefly as he attempted to count them. 

Some he knew from the stories of those who'd cared for him, others he recalled from a childhood cloaked in haze. The rest he remembered as if they happened yesterday. 

"Too many to keep track of," he could only answer. "Many people died to keep me safe. To bring me here." 

He was constantly on the verge of escape, constantly prepared to run from one fortress to another when his chances of survival were at their lowest. 

Forever in hiding from an enemy he'd never met. Forever in search of a peaceful home. 

He heard Rey let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry." 

Putting the comb down, he placed his hands on her shoulders and urged her to turn around and face him. 

She did just that, and her eyes looked lost and sad. In that moment, he wished he could kiss her sorrows away, to press his lips against hers and make her forget everything bad that ever happened to her. To touch her hips and the mound at the apex of her thighs until her mind swirled with pleasure. 

But, in his heart of hearts, Ben knew he couldn't do that. To claim her now, when she was at her most vulnerable, would do more harm to her than good. 

Whatever needs he had would have to wait for now. 

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Rey," he said, hoping the conviction in his voice could make her understand. "You are not to blame for what your father and grandfather did." 

She bit her lower lip, and Ben could tell from her demeanor that she was not entirely convinced. When one appeared to be forsaken by all, it was difficult to believe anything other than the worst. 

He knew she had nothing to her name now - robbed of her castle and crown by those who'd sworn her loyalty, forced to walk through muck and grime to seek the help of those who, not long ago, had sworn to dethrone and kill her. 

But she wasn't alone now. Many things had changed since their first meeting on Takodana's drawbridge. 

Tilting her chin up, he continued. "And what happened to you tonight isn't punishment for their actions either." He saw as her eyes widened, and wondered if he'd guessed her thoughts just now. "This isn't punishment, or humiliation," he resumed, running his fingers along her jawline with soothing motions. "It is a cruel injustice that we will rectify together." 

Her eyebrows went up. "We?” 

"I may have the means to defeat Plutt on the open field, but if the innocent people you've sheltered behind its walls surrender, it won't be because of my army." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It will be because of you."

"Do you believe they think me dead?” 

"I do," he replied. "And as soon as they see you alive and well, they will open their gates and welcome you as their queen." 

She took in his words before she spoke. "Will they welcome her if she arrives alongside their new king?" 

"I am certain she will be welcomed with open arms." He gave a mild shrug. "And for her sake they will tolerate the king as well. Especially if he makes her smile." 

Letting out a soft chuckle, she reached out to cup his face. "One day you will tell me everything you've gone through, Ben. You will share your fears and worries as I've done tonight." 

His heart melted. "Of course," came his reply, and he meant it. They would be equals in every way, learning how to trust and rely upon each other just as he'd hoped and offered. 

It wasn't just a kingdom they would protect, but their union and family as well.

"Will you stay with me tonight, Ben?” she asked, her eyes darting from him to the large cot draped with blankets and furs. 

It wasn't difficult to give her an answer. 

Standing up, Ben took her in his arms, delighting in the small giggle that left her lips. "I will," he replied, holding her close to his chest. "With all my heart." 

  
  


~*~

  
  


It wasn't until Ben untied the belt that he realized he wore nothing underneath his robe. 

Panicked, he fumbled with the garment, eliciting a chuckle from his betrothed. 

Rey was in bed already, covered up to her waist in blankets and furs. Her unbound hair flowed seamlessly down her back, except for one long lock which brushed against her chest, resting on top of the thin nightgown which allowed him to glimpse the outline of her nipples. They were small and puckered - probably due to the night air that slipped inside the tent from underneath the entrance - yet very enticing, as if begging him to take them in his mouth. 

She regarded him with a confused look. "Are you afraid I might see something I shouldn't?" she asked, and if he looked hard enough he was certain he would detect the ghost of a smile. “Sooner or later, you will have to reveal yourself to me if you wish to be husband."

Was she…. teasing him? 

"You've been through a lot tonight, Rey," he replied, slipping out of his boots. "The last thing I wish to do is impose my naked self upon you." 

He padded towards a corner of the tent and began rummaging through his possessions. "I'll put something on." 

"You're not imposing anything upon me," he heard her reply. "If you are more comfortable sleeping in the nude, I would hate to take that away from you. I don't want you to change your habit just because you're sharing your bed with me tonight." 

The last words made his arousal harden even further, until he was certain he'd come right then and there. How could he control it, with her lithe and pliant body pressed against him? But his urges could wait. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Rey." 

From behind him, he heard her let out a sigh. "If you truly think I am the strongest person you know, then you shouldn't doubt what I can handle or not. That is up to me to decide." 

That made him stop his search for clothing. Turning around, he regarded her with wide eyes. He hasn't paused to consider that his attempts to shelter Rey could undermine her strength if he went too far. 

There was no denying the eagerness which simmered in her gaze.

He slipped off his robe, letting the heavy fabric fall to the ground as he studied her face. 

"Oh," she exclaimed, her gaze landing right on his arousal, jutting out for her attention. 

Heat washed over him, and by the warmth of his face Ben was sure he was blushing heavily. 

"I know it's frightening, but…" he began, not quite certain what to say to appease Rey while she stared at him with a slack jaw. 

She licked her lips. "It's not," she replied as heat blossomed across the apples of her cheeks. "Come closer, please." 

He obeyed, stepping towards her until he reached the edge of the mattress. 

Without a word, she scooted to one side, the invitation clear. He sat down. 

"Is it always this big?” she asked, and he almost doubled over with laughter at the unexpected question. 

"Only when it wants you," he replied, almost at a loss for words, because truly he'd never thought they would have this conversation tonight. "It's a… umm…fascinating process." 

She nodded, her eyes still glued to his length. "One time, I overheard my ladies in waiting say that it brings both pleasure and pain." 

"It does," he admitted, watching as her teeth grazed her lower lip in preoccupation. "It depends on how one uses it." 

She glanced up. "And have you used it often?” 

He raked a hand through his hair, sensing as his cheeks reddened. “I haven't used it at all.” 

Furrowing her eyebrows, Rey leaned forward. From her demeanor, it became clear to Ben that she could not reconcile the thought with the image she'd likely created of him. “Why?” 

"I was always focused on other things," he admitted. "When I wasn't fleeing for my life I was preparing to wage war on your family. My urges always came last." 

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head, and leaned forward to cup her cheek. "Don't be. It was my decision to make. One of the few things I had control over at that time." 

Nodding, she looked down again. His arousal hadn't softened one bit. If anything, he was certain he'd spill his seed all over Rey's hand if she even dared touch him. 

Clearing her throat, she resumed her questioning. "And it will be inside me…during our wedding night?” 

"Yes," he replied, and a smile played on his face at the thought of finally being with her. "It will fit though, eventually… with enough preparation. You're strong enough to take it." 

"I wouldn't doubt it." She looked up, eyes rounded. "What does the preparation entail?“

His own gaze widened this time around, not quite knowing where to even start. Was she requesting a verbal summary, or did she… want him to show her? 

Wordlessly, he simply lifted his hand, splaying his fingers slightly as if to prove the point. 

Her lips parted into a small perfect oval. "Those aren't small either," she said, studying the length of her fingers. 

"No," he conceded with a widening smile. "But they're supposed to get the job done." 

A brief silence settled over them as she visibly took in his words, brows knitted in concentration. 

"Will you prepare me, Ben?" she asked at last. 

  
  


~*~

  
  


He would have fallen to the floor from shock had he not already sat down on the mattress. 

Of all the things that had happened in the past twenty four hours, this was by far beyond his wildest expectations. 

His desire to bring Rey pleasure burned through him, and as he glanced at her hopeful expression, Ben surmised that this was perhaps what she needed. She'd been left in a vulnerable state because of betrayal and lack of foresight, but she was not going to deprive herself of her desires. 

Of _him_. 

The realization humbled Ben to the core. 

"I can only hope I live up to what you seek," he replied, climbing on the bed until he settled beside her. 

His hand slipped beneath the covers, seeking the hem of her nightgown. 

"You will," she replied just as he pulled up the nightgown, running his fingers along the length of her thigh. 

When he finally touched her core, she shivered. The thatch of curls was wet from her arousal, so he dipped the first finger inside her easily. She was tight, impossibly so, and her inner walls fluttered against his finger when he buried it as far as it would go. 

She let out a deep breath, letting her head rest against the pillow. 

"Ben," she whispered his name as if it were a prayer to continue, and he did just that, slipping his finger in and out of her while his thumb brushed her mound. 

Her sighs grew deeper as he moved, and when his finger hit a sweet spot inside her opening she moaned. He repeated the motion, guided by instinct instead of experience, learning what she liked and didn't along the way. With each wave of slick that coated his finger, his movements quickened, guiding her upwards until she reached her peak. 

When she unraveled beside him at last, her eyelids fluttered open, and her eyes sought his own. They were the same hazel he loved, widened as if she'd uncovered an ancient secret. Her cheeks bloomed with heat, and her breathing came out in shallow pants. 

She was exquisite, and he would have kissed her for the first time then and there, had he not been so utterly mesmerized by her blissful countenance. Slipping his finger out of her snug heat, he brought her body closer to his own, letting his arms rest on the small of her back. 

Then, whispering his name again, she pressed her forehead against his bare chest until her breathing steadied, and, as soon as that happened, she fell asleep in his arms. 

It was only afterwards that Ben closed his eyes as well, his heart content as his mind planned for war.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! At least, I hope you still are! If you enjoyed the update, please let me know via comments and kudos. Your support is needed, especially now. <3
> 
> I was finally able to write the scenes I've outlined months ago when I first thought of this fic. The last two scenes were a new addition, which I hope you like. Our couple have earned these moments, I think. :)
> 
> Hope you have a wonderful day!


	9. Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey awoke to the sounds of war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the support and for continuing on with this story. I'm very grateful. Thank you to sweetkyloren for her encouragement as well. This chapter was a struggle to write.

\--

Rey awoke to the sounds of war. 

Stretching on the makeshift bed, she opened her eyes, only to find herself alone. At first she panicked, trying to make sense of her surroundings - hoping the blissful moments she’d spent in her betrothed’s arms were not just a dream. 

Even if they meant she was queen no longer, stripped of her home and crown by traitors. Queen she would be - soon, if all went well - and in order for that to happen she had to be _alive_. 

Blissfully, she was still in Ben’s tent, and his scent clung to the sheets - soap and musk and something primal that was undeniably _him_. For a moment, she wondered where he had gone, but the sharpened blades and marching soldiers outside provided the answer.

_He will fight Plutt’s forces today… unless they see the folly of their ways and surrendered._

She had little faith in her former advisors and the forces loyal to them, but the innocent people who’d come to her for help and shelter were an entirely different matter. 

_It is always the innocents who pay the biggest price._

Taking a deep breath, she stood up, just in time to see her betrothed step inside the tent.

“Rey,” he called her, rushing to her side in an instant. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, taking his appearance in. He was just as she remembered him during their meetings, clad in his customary dark armor, albeit without the crown of rubies their grandfathers had once worn. His gaze betrayed his concern, yet something simmered underneath it - a sort of determination that was both frightening and arousing.

_He is preparing for battle,_ she realized, the corners of her lips curling up in what she hoped was a reassuring smile. A sudden worry enveloped her, despite the fact that she knew he had the advantage. 

His forces would prevail, yet concern for his well-being still gnawed at her - one stray arrow or wicked blade could change the fate of the entire kingdom. He was young, that much was true, but he was still mortal… He was a king without an heir.

He was...the man she loved.

“You are concerned,” he said, sitting down next to her on the mattress.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Was I that obvious?”

“You don’t have to hide your feelings from me, Rey,” he resumed, and she watched as his large hand rested over hers. His palm was warm, despite the time spent outdoors, ungloved and calloused - not at all the hand of a nobleman.

It was the hand of a man who’d actually had to fight to stay alive.

Resting her free hand over his, she nodded. “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about anything,” she admitted, watching as his countenance shifted from mild to serious concern. 

“What troubles you?”

“Everything,” she admitted. “Your fate. The blood that will be spilled today. It all seemed much easier when it was just you and I parlaying at the gate.”

He squeezed her hand. “You shouldn’t blame yourself for his betrayal. He chose to relinquish the safety of a pardon. It was his greed that brought us here. If blood is spilled today, it will only happen because he refused to prevent it.”

Rey took in his words, her mind travelling back to the night when Plutt had arrived at Takodana with his men, bearing news of her father’s death. They’d crowned her queen then, suddenly and irrevocably, paying no mind to their dwindling support and forces. 

She did not regret becoming queen - it was, after all, her birthright, the title passed down to her as her father’s sole heir. 

_But not now…not under these circumstances._

The thought she’d had back then returned. She’d been given power, but from the hands of someone who wished to dwindle it and offer it to her on his terms. Under the worst of circumstances.

Whereas Ben...he’d taken his own power and shared it with her. As equals. As a way to usher in peace instead of suffering and bloodshed.

“I don’t blame myself,” she said at last, and as soon as she uttered the words, a weight lifted from her shoulders. “Not anymore.”

He brushed her knuckles reassuringly. 

“But that does not mean I will stop worrying for your safety,” she resumed. “It is merely a consequence of being in love with you. It just so happens that you occupy my every thought.”

“As do you,” he replied, leaning in closer.

Her gaze went to his mouth, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her lips in anticipation. Last night, he’d touched her in ways and places that nobody ever had, soothing her wounds and giving her a taste of the pleasure that was to come. Yet, despite the intimacy they’d already shared, he’d never kissed her… at least not yet. If he had, Rey was certain she would have woken up today under entirely different circumstances, all of which involved tangled lims and naked bodies pressed against each other.

A part of her would have wanted it. But another part of her, the one that was still reeling from an attempt at her life and the humiliation it inflicted, was grateful they hadn’t gone any further. 

But now, he would kiss her at last. He would offer her another taste...another part of himself.

Their lips inched closer, until they were only a breath apart. 

“Your Grace!” A woman’s voice interrupted them suddenly, and it took every ounce of self-control for Rey not to groan out loud.

He betrothed was less charitable. “What?” he bit out, turning to look at the intruder with a narrowed gaze.

Rey turned as well, taking in the lady’s appearance. She was young and tall, perhaps a few years older than Rey herself, with dark hair pinned up securely in a simple bun.

“Lord Dameron is asking for you, Your Grace,” she simply said, her manner uncommonly stoic - as if she hadn’t caught her king in a compromising position.

Clenching his jaw, Ben nodded. “Lord Dameron should work on his timing.”

Rey could not help but chuckle. Though he was visibly angry at the interruption, he still looked oddly adorable. “Go on,” she told him. “War does not wait for anyone.”

Standing up, he let out a deep sigh. “I will see you later. You needn’t worry about that.”

Had they been alone, she would have told him not to make promises he cannot keep. But, seeing as they had company, it was best not to air her fears in the presence of a stranger. Thus, she simply smiled, brushing her worries aside if only for a minute. For all she knew, this might be their only chance at a conversation before the attack on Takodana began in earnest.

“There is one thing I wish for you to keep until I return,” he said, padding towards a corner of the large tent, where an old trunk stood. 

She regarded the object with interest, for in her distraught state the night before she had not noticed it, wondering just what it might contain.

He pulled out his grown, the golden band of rubies she knew well. “I want you to hold on to this,” he said, placing the item in her hands.

In that moment, it seemed as if the world around them had vanished, the weight of Ben’s gesture too great to be ignored. Even the sounds of war had dimmed, until all she could see was her betrothed and his searching eyes.

“Are you certain?” she asked. The crown, though light, felt heavy in her hands - a reminder of what he’d fought for all his life.

He was close... _they_ were close...

“What’s mine is yours,” he simply replied, brushing his hands against her fingers.

She wished she could give him her crown as well, to share the burden of responsibility and expectations. But, it had fallen at some moment during her escape and, unless Plutt had retrieved it for his own use, was probably lying at the bottom of the moat.

“What’s mine is yours,” she repeated instead, giving him a reassuring smile to show him that she truly meant each and every word. That they were in this together, as equals who relied upon each other without fear or shame. 

Last night, he’d been as steady as an anchor, keeping her afloat when she was certain she’d drown in misery and hopelessness. He’d seen her at her worst, when she was lost and vulnerable, and he did not shy away or judge her for it. Instead, he understood and counseled… and loved her with a depth that never ceased to astound.

Her fingers wrapped around the crown. “Thank you, Ben,” she said, blinking away an unshed tear. “Thank you for everything.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


He slipped outside the tent, turning around to smile at her for one last time.

Under normal circumstances, she would have been left alone with her thoughts. However, Rey knew very well that today was no ordinary day. 

Bringing the crown to her chest, she turned to look at the young lady who had so suddenly interrupted them. An awkward silence followed - one in which Rey assessed the intruder’s appearance, trying as hard as she could to find something that betrayed her identity. Indeed, the years spent at her father’s court provided no clues, and neither did the lady’s unadorned dress - devoid of colors and sigils. If anything, the plain grey fabric only betrayed her practicality in times of war.

It was only when the lady neatened the non-existent creases, that Rey finally realized she was still in her nightgown. Tilting her chin up, she regarded her with what she hoped was a courteous expression. “I don’t expect Lord Dameron wishes to speak to me as well,” she said.

The lady shook her head. “No, he doesn’t,” she replied. “But I do.”

Rey’s eyebrows went up. “Have we met?” She tried to recall her face among the many lords and ladies who had shown up for the first parley, but the task proved impossible even for her. 

“Not officially,” the lady answered. “But I’ve heard so much about you it’s as if I know you already.”

_Well then_ , Rey thought, placing the crown on the bed before she stood up. “I cannot say that surprises me, considering _who_ I am and where I come from. But, then again, everyone claims they know me. Whether that is true or not remains to be determined.”

The implication, Rey knew was clear. All her life these people had judged her, claiming they knew who she was because of the blood that ran through her veins...because of a legacy she inherited without having a say in the matter.

_But they don’t know me...not at all_. 

It infuriated her that this person had barged into her tent, speaking to her in riddles as if she were testing her. Under normal circumstances, Rey would have worried for her safety, but Ben appeared comfortable enough to leave them alone, so she did not bother.

“Yes,” the lady replied at last, and Rey was surprised to see her demeanor had softened. “I suspect the one person who truly knows you is the one who just gave you his kingdom.”

Rey quirked an eyebrow. “And that bothers you?”

“It should, don’t you think?” she replied, but there was no malice in her voice. Only genuine curiosity. “After all, we fought your family for decades trying to get it back.”

Rey contained a deep sigh. Of course, she should have guessed their betrothal and its political implications were not universally accepted. Tolerated, perhaps…until time proved this decision was in fact correct. “Your king fought my family as well, but he seems untroubled by this. Perhaps he wishes to lead by example”

“H-he is _your_ king too.”

She gave the lady a smile. “And I am his queen. As I am _yours_ ,” Rey said, desiring to put an end to this game once and for all. Whoever this person was...she was overstepping her boundaries. “Pray tell me...who are you?”

Something seemed to have shaken the young lady’s composure. Her cheeks flamed, as if she realized she’d crossed the line. Perhaps she’d overestimated her importance, or underestimated Rey’s ability to impose her own authority. “Apologies, Your Grace,” she said at last, her gaze shifting from Rey’s face to the tent’s entrance. “I am Lady Paige. Rose’s sister.”

Suddenly, everything made sense. 

From the moment Ben staged his conquest, Lady Paige Tico had been a sort of phantom presence - unseen, yet vital to the success of the war. It was her army that brought about House Palpatine’s defeat in battle and the death of Rey’s father. It was her letter that Rey uncovered in the rookery on that fateful day when she parleyed alone with Ben for the very first time. Paige’s desire to remove her from the throne had practically leapt off the page, and Rose herself had already confessed to the numerous attempts made by her older sister to obtain information.

In some aspects, Lady Paige had succeeded. But in others, she’d failed disastrously, and it puzzled Rey exceedingly to find her here, pretending as if nothing had happened. 

Perhaps her pride would not allow it - and Rey could not fault her for that. She knew a few things about pride as well.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Rey simply said, flashing her customary polite smile. “Rose has told me a few things about you, but I do not presume to have any knowledge of your character based solely on that. Indeed, I find it much more useful when I have a chance to speak to the person in question.”

Silence settled over them, so Rey continued, watching as realization slowly took hold of Paige - her gaze shifting sideways. “Don’t you agree?”

“Y-yes. I suppose so,” Paige replied, and it took her several moments until she glanced up again. “We haven’t spoken at all until today.”

Having received the confirmation she sought, Rey nodded. “Which is why I am so happy you’ve come to see me. Perhaps now we can examine what we’ve heard and compare it with our own experience.”

“What has my sister told you about me?”

“Nothing that should surprise you,” Rey answered. They were several feet apart, so she stepped closer - enough to get her point across without intruding upon Paige’s personal space. “She showed me your most recent letter.” 

She paused then, giving Paige enough time to take in what she was about to say. From the way her eyebrows rose, it was clear she knew exactly what Rey was referring to. “Your handwriting is exquisite.”

“M-my letter…”

Nodding, Rey made a step forward, her eyes locked on Paige’s face. “You were very careless with your sister’s safety,” she said, recalling the same words she uttered to Rose that day. “Fortunately, the letter didn’t end up in the wrong hands. I shudder to think what would have happened had someone else intercepted it.” 

Taking a deep breath, Rey gathered her thoughts. A dozen names went through her mind, and those were only some of the many sheltered inside Takodana. “Like Plutt, for example, or even my father - had he lived long enough to make his retreat, of course.”

“I will not apologize for your family’s demise.”

Rey smiled at that. The sudden attempt to change topics was far too obvious. “I don’t expect you to do that. It would be an insult to us both.” 

She truly meant those words. Perhaps it was a sin to harbor no regrets for the demise of a relative...a father nonetheless. But, in truth, she’d never had a father - at least not the sort one mourned.

“And I will not apologize for what I am about to say to you now,” she continued, trying to bring the conversation back to its roots. “If I were truly the monster you’ve all labeled me as, Rose would have been executed...drawn and quartered. It is what my father and grandfather would have done.”

“What did you do then?” Paige asked, swallowing heavily.

“I told her she was free to go. “I told her she could join you if she wished it. She refused,” Rey answered, watching as Paige’s expression changed into one of complete surprise. “She didn’t tell you?”

Paige shook her head in response, and the tone of her next words did not disguise her sorrow. “She spent most of the night with Finn instead.” 

Rey stepped back then, nodding slowly.

Paige was hurting. 

The reason for her visit suddenly became clear, and in that moment Rey understood her, in a way. Paige’s parents had died when she was young, crushed by the iron fist of a tyrant. Then, her only sister was taken away from her to serve the tyrant’s kin in exile...never to be seen again for all she knew. 

And now... now her sister had returned, but the passage of time had changed her. She’d developed bonds outside of her familial ties, relationships that Paige likely did not understand. 

Rose was moving on, growing...setting aside old feuds to focus on what lay ahead.

And Paige… Paige was alone. Clinging to the past as if it were an anchor.

“Rose doesn’t tell me anything,” Paige admitted at last. “She hasn’t for a while now.”

“And you have come to me in search of answers…” Rey concluded, watching as she nodded. “I don’t know if I have any that can satisfy you.”

Paige sighed heavily. “I suppose I came here to find out what Rose sees in you. A Palpatine...” she admitted. “Why she loves you as if you were her sister, when her own kin spent years missing her. Fighting for her freedom and her life.”

“You will have to ask her. I fought for her too, if that is what you want to know, albeit in a different way.” It was now Rey’s turn to look away. Sighting, she tried to gather her thoughts anew. “Our life in Takodana wasn’t easy, and often times we only had each other to rely on. My father stirred fear in the hearts of many, as you well know.” 

Paige nodded. “That is something we can easily agree on.”

“I don’t expect you to harbor the same level of affection towards me that Rose and Kaydel do. Our experiences away from court brought us together in ways that I cannot yet articulate,” she resumed. “But what I do expect is for the two of us to at least live in harmony and respect. For your sister’s sake... and for Alderaan. I know you care about our home as much as I do.”

“I fought for our home every single day,” Paige replied. Her gaze grew wistful. “To make it peaceful and prosperous and safe.”

“And we will continue to do that,” Rey said, offering her hand. Hoping she would take it. “Together.”

She did just that. “Yes. Together.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


When Rey emerged from the tent at last, she wore a new dress with long sleeves and a mail girdle.

It was new in the sense that she hadn’t worn it before, but she was almost certain it belonged to one of the ladies from Ben’s council, who had kindly loaned it to her. She wished she knew who it was, so as to properly thank her.

Rose and Kaydel had brought the dress with them shortly after her conversation with Paige. It was a fine and deep blue, the color similar to that of the crown Rey had lost when making her escape, and the hem was stitched with fine green thread. Upon closer inspection, the two colors reminded her of House Skywalker’s banners, so she assumed that whoever had selected the garment for her must have taken this into account. It was all confirmed soon enough, when Kaydel slipped out of the tent for a few moments and returned with a mantle she placed over Rey’s shoulders, blue on the outside and green on the inside. 

At Paige’s suggestion, who Rey suspected had agreed to attend to her in order to speak with Rose alone, her hair was styled in a traditional Alderaanian braid, then pinned up to ensure the wind wouldn’t disturb it. 

And then, at last, they placed the crown of rubies on her head.

Ben’s crown. 

The crown worn by her father and grandfather. The crown which once belonged to her betrothed’s grandfather as well...and all the kings that came before him.

“You said he asked you to hold on to it,” Kaydel had told her when it was all over.

Rey took a look at herself in the mirror. She was a Skywalker in all but name now, soon to be wed to the last of that family’s line. Her own lineage had never brought her comfort, and now the whole world would see it - and would hopefully embrace her. 

She was more than transformed. She was reborn.

“I did,” she replied at last, turning towards the exit. “His legacy is in safe hands.”

The thought persisted when the cool autumn air kissed her face. She left Rose and Paige inside the tent, engaged in the conversation they should have had last night. Kaydel went as well, likely to speak to her family or spend a few precious moments with Lord Dameron.

Observing the clusters of soldiers outside, Rey was left alone. 

Alone, but not lonely. Not anymore.

With a pounding heart, she tried to spot Ben among the men, but he was nowhere to be found. She wished to see him one final time before the battle, hoping to give him a proper send-off - the kiss they should have shared last night.

She did not notice the man approaching her until it was too late.

  
  


~*~

  
  


He was old, but his eyes were kind and pensive - and though she’d never seen him before, Rey knew without a shadow of a doubt who this man was. His surcoat boasted the colors and symbols of his family’s sigil.

Her mother’s family.

In that moment, breathing seemed a chore. A challenge.

Nonetheless, she attempted it - a deep breath meant to give her courage. “Lord Kenobi,” she said, not quite sure how to address him.

His gaze shifted - sadness simmering within - and she knew she’d upset him. Whatever greeting he expected, she did not deliver. But how could she know, when he was but a stranger, despite the blood they shared? 

“Your Grace,” he nodded politely. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last.”

An awkward silence followed. He looked at her, truly as if he’d seen a ghost, and she was once again reminded of just how little she knew of her other side of her family.

“You look so much like your mother,” he resumed. “She would have been happy and proud to see you today.”

Her heart pounded, and it was difficult to remain composed. Nonetheless, Rey tried, smoothing the non-existent creases in her garment in an attempt to collect her thoughts. “I… I don’t know what she looks like ...or how she was like as a person,” she admitted. “But thank you.”

“There is much to know,” Lord Kenobi answered, his eyes wistful, likely recalling a dear memory. “And now you can learn at your leisure. There is nobody who can stop you now.”

There was no doubt that he was referring to the Palpatine side of her family. Ever since she could remember, her father had violently barred all mentions of his wife. She was a disappointment who’d failed to produce him a son, another dead wife meant to be discarded and forgotten.

But not anymore. Rey would see to it.

“I know,” she replied. “And now that I’ve met you, I would like to learn more about her.” She watched as his gaze became more hopeful. “And about you as well ...grandfather.”

He smiled at that. “Mandalore is your home, Rey. You’re always welcome to visit.”

She nodded. After years of captivity, she could finally leave Takodana as a free woman, travel to the places her father had never allowed her to visit. Speak to the people he’d isolated her from. 

She had so many questions….

“How did my parents’ marriage come to pass?”

Considering her father and grandfather’s nature, Rey had her suspicions. After all, her father had been married to countless women, throwing them away as soon as they didn’t deliver the son he wanted.

“The wedding was forced upon us, like all your father’s marriages,” he replied. “Like your grandfather, he took and took with tyranny and violence, regardless of the consequences and the will of others.” 

Eyes welling up with tears, Rey could not help thinking of her mother. Of what she must have endured. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Rey. It’s not your fault.”

She glanced sideways. There were no known faces around them - just soldiers carrying on about their day, unaware of the conversation taking place near them “It must pain you to look at me and be reminded of your daughter. If I hadn’t been born, she would have still been here.”

He took her hands in his, holding them with fatherly reassurance. “No, Rey,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I look at you and I am filled with pride. And your mother, your namesake, would have felt the same way to see what you’ve become. How you’ve grown and risen despite the circumstances.”

“She sounds incredibly kind. And hopeful.”

“She was.” He nodded, his voice shaking with emotion. “And brave...and spirited. The dress you’re wearing now was hers.”

Eyes widened, she glanced down, examining brilliant blue fabric. “H-how?”

“I sent someone to retrieve it from Mandalore last night,” he replied with a nostalgic smile. “Fortunately, it arrived just in time. Your mother had it made shortly before her marriage.”

She took in his words, and her mind quickly went to the first impression she had of the garment upon seeing it - how much it reminded her of the Skywalker banners. “It was an act of defiance,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. 

And love.

“Thank you, grandfather.”

Lord Kenobi nodded. “Every sign of open rebellion was brutally squashed, so we all defied them in whichever small way we could. In order to be able to strike back and win, we had to wait…or die.”

“Wait for what?” she asked.

“For the last of the Skywalkers.”

As she listened to her grandfather, Rey pictured herself in the situation of all the families who had suffered under House Palpatine’s reign. In truth, they did not differ much from her - they had all suffered at the end of the day, though in different ways. 

“We had to wait for the right time,” he resumed. “Amassing the army and support he needed in Tatooine was not easy, and your grandfather and father stopped at nothing to prevent it.”

She was well-acquainted with the subject. The failed assassination attempts were common knowledge, and as a child she remembered her father’s frightening rage whenever news came that the Skywalker heir had survived them. 

“Twenty-nine years is a long time to suffer,” she mused, stunned by their sheer willpower and endurance. “I am not surprised you joined him.”

“I joined him because of you as well,” he said, and his hold on her hands tightened gently. “I know you must have felt very lonely when news came of the families Ben rallied to his cause, but you needed support on his side just as much as you did on the other.”

Her thoughts went to the night Plutt and her father’s advisers arrived at her castle, hailing her as her father’s heir and Queen, despite ignoring her existence for years. Then, just as keenly, she recalled Plutt’s betrayal. “I never had support on my side,” she admitted. “None of it was meaningful and true.”

“You had your ladies,” he reminded her, and she smiled as she remembered how Rose and Kaydel had stood by her side, despite the blood which flowed through Rey’s veins. “Their support was of greater value to you than a dozen treacherous advisers.”

“There’s no denying that,” she admitted. 

For a few seconds she paused, gathering the courage to ask one final question. “How did Ben’s decision to marry me came about? It seemed impossible that any member of his council would accept me.”

“The decision was all his,” Lord Kenobi replied, the corners of his lips curling up proudly. “I merely endorsed him, together with his closest advisers - who likely saw during the parleys what I see in you.”

Her gaze grew misty. “Thank you,” she said. 

All her life she hoped for people to look beyond her lineage - to see that her last name did not define her. 

At last, she succeeded. 

“I simply tried to help him as I did you,” her grandfather admitted. “You don’t have to wander through the world alone, Rey. Not anymore.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


The next time she saw Ben was in battle.

It was a slaughter.

Dead bodies littered the battlefield, and he was only getting started. He cut through the enemy host like a hot knife through butter, and, from her vantage point on top of a small hillock, Rey watched as they fell. She was flanked by her ladies in waiting, as well as several members of Ben’s council and a few guards - all of whom appeared just as eager to see the war end.

_This could have all been avoided if they had surrendered peacefully_ , she thought to herself as she watched blades clash. What was war, if not an exercise in futility? Unfortunately, however, some never seemed to learn - and the people paid dearly for the arrogance and stupidity of their leaders. Plutt was a fool to ever think he was going to win by challenging his enemy in the open field.

Some conflicts were necessary and unavoidable, it was true. She could not sit and claim that deposing her father was a mistake. Or that it was unnecessary. 

She knew very well what he was. What her grandfather was as well. She knew she could not change that their blood ran through her veins. 

But she’d proven that she was more than a legacy wrought by cruel and heartless men.

The battle raged on, and Ben was at the center of it, going where the fighting was thickest. He moved with ruthless efficiency and ease, as if his heavy armor weighed nothing at all. 

Her betrothed was born and bred for warfare, a fact she always knew but didn’t fully grasp until that moment. Seeing Ben in action as he slashed the enemy with his sword - sometimes taking even more than one opponent at a time, as if it were sport as opposed to a matter of life and death - was a sight to behold. It was both staggering and mesmerizing, and though Rey knew she should have only felt appalled by the sight of so much blood and mud - like some of the people watching alongside her were - a part of her could not help but observe with morbid fascination and wonder just what was going on inside Ben’s head as he fought. 

Or what went on inside the heads of those who were unlucky enough to face him.

She had her suspicions.

“War makes monsters of us all,” she heard her grandfather say in a low voice, as if he could read her thoughts. He stood on his horse beside her, regarding the events below with a level of composure that was similar to her own. “Put a sword in a man’s hand and you change him irrevocably.”

Turning to look at him, Rey nodded. “He fights with so much pain,” she remarked, observing as he moved. Even the armor could not conceal the stiffness in his shoulders. “It might seem like sport and glory on the outside, but to him it’s so much more than that. Even from this distance I can see it.”

“He fights for the memory of those he lost and can never see again,” Lord Kenobi murmured, confirming her suspicions. “A thousand generations live in him now. He is the product of his family’s reign and strife...the last of their line. For them, he must live.” 

It was a lot for one person to carry, Rey knew. In a way, he was connected to a legacy just as much as she was, except he had to honor it instead of cleansing it. 

“And he fights for _you_ ,” her grandfather resumed. “ _You_ are his family now, regardless of whether you have said your wedding vows or not.” 

They watched as Ben cut down another enemy. “For you, Rey, he will live as well.”

~*~

  
  


She walked across the battlefield, her mantle billowing in the wind like a banner.

The air smelled of death and mud. Of blood spilled because of a traitor’s insatiable greed and arrogance. Looking around her, Rey tried to spot Plutt among the survivors that were rounded up by Ben’s forces. The defeated soldiers dropped their weapons, and from the corner of her eyes she glimpsed their surprised and pleading faces. She wondered if they thought her dead as well until this moment.

When she reached Ben at last, she wrapped her arms around him, sighing with relief as she felt his body relax. The tension she’d observed during the battle was melting, and she imagined he was relieved as well.

“Are you alright?” She looked up at him. There were no cuts or bruises visible on his face, just a smudge of dirt staining his left cheek. She cupped it.

Ben’s eyes lingered on her face. “You’re a vision,” he said instead, gently leaning forward until his forehead brushed against her own, careful now to disturb the crown he’d given her.

She smiled. “Thank you, but I asked you a question.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine now.”

He pulled away from her just as Lord Dameron approached them, his armor muddy and splattered with blood that fortunately was not his own. 

“I believe this is yours,” he told Rey.

He held her crown in his hands, the sapphires still gleaming in the daylight despite the dirt and splotches of dried blood which covered them. 

With trembling hands, she took the item, not quite believing someone was able to retrieve it from the moat after her escape. But Plutt must have been very determined.

“Yes, this crown is mine,” Rey said. 

Suddenly, she recalled how she’d taken it from her father’s court in an act of defiance that now she knew her mother would be proud of. Countless queens had worn it before she did, and she imagined Ben’s grandmother was included among them as well.

She turned towards Ben, a soft smile playing on her face. “And it’s yours as well.”

His eyebrows furrowed, and she could not help but remark how adorably confused he looked.

“What’s mine is yours.” She repeated the same words he’d told her that same morning, raising the crown ever so slightly in her hands. 

Eyes widening in realization, he went down on one knee before she placed the crown on his head.

She did not ask for cheers, and fortunately none were given. From the manner Ben stood back up to look into her face, she imagined the others must have realized that gesture was not for them. 

She placed her hand in Ben’s. His palm was cold from the autumn chill, but hers was warm enough for the two of them. “Where is Plutt?” she asked.

Turning around, she looked into Poe’s eyes, hoping he would have an answer for her. After all, he was the one who’d brought her crown. 

“Plutt escaped,” Poe announced with a grim voice. “He’s locked himself inside the castle.”

Gritting her teeth, Rey gave a silent nod. She should have imagined he’d turn into a coward the moment the battle didn’t go his way. 

“We’ll commence the siege then,” she heard Ben say, and from the tone of his voice she could sense how tired he was. “It seems the war must continue.”

Looking around, she took note of the soldiers scattered across the battlefield, alive and dead. Their armor proudly displayed the sigils which belonged to the families they’d fought on behalf of. She recognized Plutt’s banners immediately, followed by the those that represented her other former advisers. 

She found all of them… except for one.

_My soldiers were not here_.

She knew that to refer to most of those men as soldiers was an exaggeration - some of them were the stronghold’s garrison, which Rey suspected had never ventured beyond the walls to fight in the first place. But the bulk of her men were innocent peasants plucked from the surrounding lands to fight...people who had come to Takodana in search of shelter.

People who’d relied on her for protection. They were never equipped to fight. 

Beside her, Poe and Ben spoke of sieges and weapons, their voices weary. They spoke of days and weeks without the peace they all now sought. She remembered how adamant Ben had been about surrender when they first met. How he tried to bring about a peaceful end to the conflict.

She looked up towards Takodana. 

An idea took root inside her mind - a risky one, to be certain, but she had to try. She was tired - tired of fighting, of death, and uncertainty. She wished for peace just as much as everyone else did.

“I want to request a parley,” she said. 

All conversation ceased as the two men stopped to look at her. 

“Rey?” Ben said, as if he hadn’t heard her correctly.

“I’m going to speak to them.”

Poe frowned. “Them?”

“My people,” she clarified. “Plutt’s army is gone. He has nobody left besides the people I sheltered. If I go there and ask them to surrender…”

Ben squeezed her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. “You will die,” he told her, and Rey’s heart constricted as she heard his voice shake. “I-I can’t lose you, Rey.”

“You won’t,” she assured him, though there was no guarantee for that. 

All she had were her suspicions and judgement. But something inside her told her that was enough. After all, they’d served her well throughout the years. She survived her father’s court and flourished in exile. Why should her judgement fail her now?

Bringing her palm to cup his cheek, she continued. “You fought for us, Ben. Now let me return the favor.”

With determined steps, she headed towards Takodana. Fortunately, the distance was not great. For all his incompetence, Plutt was at least smart enough to challenge them close enough to a place he could retreat to like a coward.

The field was muddy and uneven, the result of last night’s rain and the fighting that lasted all morning, and though it slowed her progress, Rey did not falter. The hem of her dress brushed against the earth and the soles of her boots were stained with dirt with blood. Beside her, Ben’s soldiers parted, as if they knew it was fruitless to block her path. She was glad her betrothed did not order them to stop her, though she could hear his steps behind her and immediately knew he’d followed her out of concern with some of his men, keeping a respectful distance between her and them. She understood his fear - after all, she’d watched him fight and risk his life just moments ago. 

As she approached the gates, she vaguely heard her ladies and waiting and grandfather call out her name with concern, but their pleas fell on deaf ears as Rey trudged on.

When she reached the moat, she stopped at last. Looking up, she watched her men stare at her with perplexed faces, holding their bows and arrows with loose fingers as they stood on the battlements. They truly looked as if they’d seen a ghost, and watching as some stared at her and then at their companions in disbelief was confirmation enough that they thought she’d died at the hands of her enemies. How else could they have been persuaded to fight a losing battle? Plutt was nowhere to be seen, and Rey wondered just how long it would take for him to show his face.

Taking a deep breath, she decided he was not worth waiting for. 

“My friends,” she began, addressing the soldiers she could see. “Despite the conflict you have witnessed today, we mean you no harm. It was only the greed and thoughtlessness of one man that brought us here.” Her gaze shifted as she spoke, looking into each and every one of their faces. “The same man who is now cowering behind these walls like a coward and means to use you as a shield - just like the poor soldiers who perished today on this field. Enough blood has been spilled on account of his lack of courage.”

A sudden commotion interrupted her speech, a panicked and angry voice that she knew could only belong to one person.

“When you all came to Takodana in search of shelter, I promised that I would keep you safe,” she resumed, ignoring him. “A queen’s duty is to her people, first and foremost, and I intend to keep my promise. I kindly ask you to surrender Lord Plutt and this stronghold to me. To _us._ You have my word that no harm shall come to you.”

For a few moments, silence reigned as she stared into the eyes of her people. It did not escape Rey just how vulnerable she was at that moment - one single arrow shot in disagreement could very well end her life and start another conflict. If Plutt got his hands on a weapon, she knew he would not hesitate to use it.

She did not want to die. Her heart pounded as she waited for an answer.

It came at last in the form of a bow and arrow, thrown aside on the battlements. More weapons followed, until none remained. A scuffle reverberated from behind the walls, and soon enough a man was thrown across the walls and into the moat, his hands bound together with rope.

Plutt.

From behind Rey, a group of soldiers rushed to retrieve him. They brought him to her in all his glory, forcing him to his knees. He was so muddy not even the water from the moat could clean him properly. The implication was clear: she would pass judgement, just as Ben assured her would happen.

Looking down at him, she took in his scrunched up face as she thought of a suitable punishment. Doubtless, he expected her to act in accordance to House Palpatine’s customs. To have him drawn and quartered would almost be seen as making him a favor. She would accomplish nothing besides showing the whole world she was nothing more than her family’s legacy.

“Lock him away,” she said at last. “He will be tried at dawn and hanged. In public... for all to see and learn from the folly of his treason.”

The men nodded, taking him away. Never to be seen again until she deemed it fit.

When she turned around at last, the drawbridge lowered. They were approaching the final stage of the surrender, so she looked over her shoulder to observe the people behind her. Some simply stared at her, their eyes round and mouths agape, likely stunned by how easily the stronghold had surrendered to her. 

She could not help the smile that played on her lips. 

When she looked at Ben, however, her smile widened. He gazed upon her with what she could only describe as love - his dark eyes shining bright. Lifting her hand up, she motioned for him to join her. 

He did just that, and she placed her palm in his. They stepped across the drawbridge together, to the cheers of the people inside the keep.

  
  


~*~

  
  
  


It did not take long for her to realize that Ben now stood in the stronghold where his family was killed.

They were in the grand hall, staring at the tapestries her grandfather had commissioned long ago to celebrate the death of House Skywalker. He’d asked to come here as soon as they arrived, his voice shaking every so slightly.

She brought him there, holding his hand just as she did when they claimed Takodana together, and as they climbed the stairs Rey glimpsed as some of his attendants walk behind them, likely curious to see the place themselves. 

The tapestries were as she remembered them the last time she stepped inside this room, large and imposing, terrifying in their level of detail. Sneaking a glance to the side, she watched as Ben examined them in silence. His face was a mixture of conflicting emotions. There was the joy and relief associated with the recent victory, of course, but also the realization that it only happened because he had lost so much.

“Ben,” she called out to him, gently touching his upper arm. 

He glanced down at her, but his eyes were hazy. “This place was the beginning of the end for my family. I… I’ve always known but…”

“It’s sinking in now,” she added. 

Her hand went up to cup his left cheek, the one stained from battle. It did not matter that eyes were upon them...not now. Not anymore.

“Yes.” 

His story, she knew well, and she brushed her hand against his cheek in what she hoped was comfort. She recalled how the tale of House Skywalker’s fall had been told to her throughout the years by her father’s loyalists. Other children grew up with tales of brave knights and maidens, but she’d been raised differently. 

Turning around to look at the tapestry, she remembered how they always claimed the Skywalkers got what they deserved, speaking at length of a perceived weakness which led to their downfall. Whatever that weakness was, they never talked about, and she suspected at times that the cause was truly her grandfather’s cunning and cruelty. Only someone who lacked honor would invite a family to a feast under false pretenses and slay them at the dinner table. 

Then, when the tale neared its end, they spoke of how their last scion and his followers lived in exile, plotting her demise. It was easy to believe that was the truth, when so many repeated it to her until all she could dream were shadows haunting her with a thirst for blood and vengeance.

“My mother is not depicted here,” Ben mused, his gaze focused on a scene which depicted the dead bodies of his grandparents, father, and uncle, slain right on the spot where he now stood.

“No,” she said. Princess Leia’s escape was something of a known, yet unspoken secret - something her father and grandfather would never admit out loud to those they showed the tapestries to. “To acknowledge her existence meant acknowledging yours. It meant the last of the Skywalkers still lived and could claim the throne at any minute.”

His eyes welled with tears. “They must have rejoiced when my mother died on the birthing bed.”

“And their joy soon turned to ashes because you lived,” she replied, taking his hands in hers. “They thought they could erase people’s memories with cloth and thread, but a legacy is not easily forgotten.”

“I thought your father would have them exhibited at court for all to see.”

“He did for a while,” she admitted. “But then he banished me here and sent them with me. It was a reminder of my incompetence to live up to the family name. If I could have, I would have burned them.”

She turned to look at the tapestries again. “In fact, I’ll do just that. My father is no longer here to punish me.”

“No,” he said suddenly, squeezing her hand to get her attention. “Don’t burn them.”

He looked behind him, and she followed suit, taking in the somber looks of his attendants. “I want these tapestries taken down and delivered to Coruscant,” he said. “They will be exhibited in the throne room for all to see.”

“You don’t have to do this, Ben,” she said, not quite certain what took hold of him. They were a cruel depiction of suffering and deceit.

“I do…” he said, with a soft tone. “They’re a part of my history. _Our_ history. As much as we want to burn it all and pretend it never happened, we cannot. I realize that now.”

She squeezed his hand in understanding. If they hadn’t met, he probably would have destroyed it all in a fruitless pursuit to regain everything he’d lost. And while he would have had the throne, it would have been a poor consolation prize. 

When he spoke again, determination shone through his voice. “I also wish to commission a new set of tapestries to be exhibited alongside these… depicting the rise of House Skywalker,” he said before turning to look into her eyes again. “ _And_ our courtship.”

“Ben,” she murmured, tilting her body towards him so that he could wrap his arms around her waist.

He did just that, as the people around them scrambled to remove the tapestries. It took some time, but they managed, and soon enough the attendants made themselves scarce until there were no people left in the room.

They were alone, she remarked as the doors finally closed. Just the two of them. Alone...but not lonely.

His hold on her waist tightened, pressing her body closer to his. In response, she went on her tiptoes until her lips brushed against his own. 

She kissed him. At long last. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you have enjoyed this chapter. I really value your support. Here's to a great 2020!! I hope you all have a successful year!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, please do not hesitate to leave comments and kudos. Your support keeps me motivated to continue working on this story. You can find me on tumblr @bunilicious and on twitter @bunilicious1


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